Becoming
by Sorrel
Summary: They needed a warrior for their cause. They picked Xander Harris. One magical rune later, there are ex-girlfriends, Chaos mages, sex, alchohol, seduction, and doubles exploding everywhere. This wasn't what quite the PTB had in mind. Xander-Spike. SLASH
1. Perchance to Dream

**Chapter One: Perchance to Dream.** Because I rewatched season two, and missed Whistler. This is slash. It isn't explicit slash, but it's very definitely slash. Please don't review with a string of "eeew's," because the pairing is in the summary, and therefore you have been warned twice.

"Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them". –_ Twelth Night,_ Act II, Scene V.

* * *

****

Xander knew he was dreaming. Even in his life, only a dream could be this strange.

He is standing on the dance floor of the Bronze, looking up at the stage. Giles is perched on a stool, strumming his guitar and leaning forward as he croons the lyrics into the microphone. A few feet away, Faith and Buffy are dancing, arms wrapped loosely around each other's waists and gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. "Two Slayers," Faith says, and they both turn to face him, leaning cheek to cheek as they smile and Buffy adds, "No waiting," and they lunge for his throat, fangs bared.

He's firing out the door, the crack of the rifle familiar to his ears as the carefully aimed bullets plough into the pavement at the feet of the approaching demons. They yelp in surprise and start to back off, all except one of them, a black-haired woman in a black and red velvet dress with shiny red shoes. Drusilla turns to him and smiles her vacant smile, swaying back and forth as she says in a sing-song voice, "I'm naming all the stars," and behind him he hears Buffy say, "Xander, what do you think you are doing?"

He turns to face her and the gun is gone, replaced by an axe that he holds just as easily, and he smiles at her. She's wearing a simple tank top and loose pants with her hair bound back- Slaying gear, not the Princess getup he vaguely remembers her wearing at the time. "But Buffy," he says, a goofy smile on his face, "I clocked field time!"

In Buffy's basement, now, and looking up into Cordelia's eyes as she whispers, "That spell was for me?"

"Of course," Anya says from behind her, and the light from her pendant glows in the darkness, highlighting her demonic features and throwing shadows where shadows have no right to be. "But now that I've got my powers back, I can do it right this time!"

A snarl in the darkness, and a shadow detaches itself from the other shadows among the trees, revealing itself to be Angel. No, Angelus, Xander corrects himself frantically, seeing the cold sneer, but a growl from behind him halts the approaching vampire in his tracks and brings his focus to Spike, standing behind him with a hand on his shoulder. "Sire," the younger vampire snaps, and Angelus blinks, slowly, before shaking his head. When he looks up again his eyes are dark and soft with the weight of the centuries, and he whispers, "I didn't mean to hurt them. Did I hurt you too?"

In the Bronze again, his heart thudding against his chest and dust drifting to the floor with the echo of "I'm a new man!" resounding in his ears. Then it stops. The noise, the press of bodies and smell of panic on the air- it all halts, then quickly rewinds. The dust reforms into Jessie, smirking at him with a stake pressed against his heart, but then Jessie shakes his head and stops back, frowning down at his chest. Before Xander can move or react, he grabs a zipper on his collarbone and pulls it down.

A smaller man steps out of Jessie's skin and looks around with interest. His clothes are terrifyingly loud, putting even his own to shame, but when their gazes meet his eyes are dark and perceptive. "I want to learn from you," Xander says, knowing that the words aren't his but not knowing where the come from, "but I don't want to dress like you."

"We're lucky we need you on our side," the man says, his voice accented with the streets of New York, but then he shakes his head. "Ah, but we're not here to repeat the past, are we?"

"Why are we here?" Xander wants to know, and the man smiles sadly.

"Because this is your nightmare," he says. "Only place I could get in, really." Xander says nothing. "I'm Whistler," the man says after a moment. "Immortal demon sent down to even the score," and Xander thinks he's quoting from a memory, judging by the small, private smile on his face.

"It's like this, Xander Harris. The Hellmouth lost a guardian, and the world lost a Slayer. Another will be called, of course, but not yet. Faith interfered with the natural order of things, and the world takes time to right itself." Silence for a moment. "If it were up to me I wouldn't do this, but it's never up to me. The world keeps turning and the evil keeps coming and it doesn't stop. It never stops."

He closes his eyes, and then with glowing fingertips sketches a rune of fire in the air. His eyes snap open and he says, "Xander Harris, you're going to have to Become."

"I'm going to have to become what?" Xander asks, but then the rune shifts forward at a flick of Whistler's fingers and begins to burn into his chest, and he hears Whistler's reply only distantly through a haze of pain.

"That's up to you," he says, and then disappears.

* * *

****

Xander woke up all at once, his eyes snapping open to stare into the smothering darkness over his head. Only gradually did he become aware of his breathing, and the hum of the refrigerator, and the comforting weight of another body where Spike lay against his side.

Slowly, he went back to sleep.

* * *

****

He stood utterly unmoving in front of the bathroom mirror, only distantly aware of Spike's yelled complaints about inconsiderate humans who hogged the bathroom. Holding his discarded shirt in one hand he turned back and forth, as if by looking at it he could force the symbol burned into his chest, just above his solar plexus, to go away. So far, it wasn't working.

"That's it, I'm coming in," Spike growled from where he was pacing on the other side of the door, and then slammed it open before Xander could stop him.

The vampire was at his side in a movement literally to fast for the human eye to see, hauling him around roughly by his arm and glaring at him accusingly. "You told me you didn't get roughed up at all last night," he said, pointing at the mark. "You said it was all, 'walk in, kill thing while it's asleep.'"

"I wasn't hurt by the Helfnaar demon," Xander said honestly, then held up a hand to forestall Spike's vociferous disagreement. "I had a dream last night, okay? Some demon guy named Whistler told me I had to Become, and burned this into my chest before disappearing and neglecting to tell me what the hell I'm supposed to become, anyway."

Spike didn't relax much at his explanation, but it was enough that Xander could see it. "Whistler? Little bloke, scary clothes, New York accent?" Xander nodded. "He's a player for the Powers that Be, then. Not actively evil, but not always makin' the best decisions for you lot."

"What do you mean? And don't start with the 'you lot' mess again, Mr. I'm-just-killing-demons-for-the-fun-of-it The Bloody."

"Hey, it is fun! Beat up a demon, get the adrenaline goin' good, _and_ I get to stare at your ass. What more can a self-respecting demon want, I ask you?" Xander pulled a truly horrible face at him. "Careful, your face might freeze like that. Now, as to what I meant about Whistler... Angel. Whistler's the one who set 'im on the path to Buffy. Meant for him to be fightin' Acathla, though, not raisin' him."

"Gotcha," Xander said, and fell silent.

"He did say that it wasn't his choice," he added thoughtfully after a moment. "That he wouldn't do it if it were up to him. Implies that he's more of a messenger boy or delivery boy or whatever than the one making the decisions."

"I want to know what he _did,_" Spike growled, and hunched over to look at the mark. "I've no idea what in bleedin' hell this is, so I can't tell what it's supposed to do. Hurt?" he asked, and arched an inquiring eyebrow at Xander.

"Do you want the macho version, or the truth?" Xander asked wryly.

"Truth'd be nice," Spike said, amused.

"Like hell," Xander said on an exhale. "There had to be a less painful way of doing this."

"Maybe," Spike said. He opened up the cabinet and began hunting through it for ointment and bandages. "An' maybe not. Blood, flesh, pain- they're all big parts of a lot of spells. Even non-evil ones," he added, emerging with the supplies. "Those three things are such an essential part of life that it's easy to tie a spell to 'em. Plus it's easier to hurt someone or drip some blood into a bowl than it is to make someone laugh enough for a spell to work. Budge up, then," he said to Xander, and nodded to the counter behind him. "Sit. Don't want it getting infected, do we?"

"No, we do not," Xander said, and fell silent while Spike tended to the burn.

The vampire's brows were furrowed with concentration, his eyes narrowed to slits and his jaw clenched. Xander could actually see the muscles standing out, and he itched to smooth his fingers over the skin and relax the corded muscles. But he kept his hands at his sides, knowing that he'd get scolded if he moved, even if it was to pet Spike.

Spike's hands were rock-steady as he smoothed the ointment over the burn, but Xander could see a tiny flinch around his lover's pale blue eyes whenever he touched the charred flesh, and he knew that Spike was much more worried about hurting him than the injury warranted.

"It hurts, but it's not fatal," Xander said into the silence.

"Jus' wanna be careful is all," Spike muttered, not looking up from the burn two inches away from his nose. Xander took the risk of a scolding and laid his hand on top of Spike's head, running his fingers gently through the bleached and currently ungelled locks until Spike looked up at him.

"I'm not gonna break, Spike," he said.

"You always say that," Spike muttered, but his touched was more firm as he finishes smoothing on the ointment.

"And yet it's still true," Xander retorted. "Haven't yet, have I?"

"'Cept your arm, of course," Spike mocked, nodding to the arm still in a cast. Xander made a face at him and waited till the bandage was on before retorting.

"That was different! That was a troll!"

"An' how, exactly, is a troll different from most of the nasties we've been running into on a daily basis?"

"Trolls are bigger?" Xander guessed, and Spike snorted as he stepped back to admire his handiwork.

"Remember, I've been on patrol with you lot for a couple weeks now. The size of some of the beasties you've run into is enough to make _me_ back off a little."

"Alright, so I can break. But that only applies to bad guys. Never you."

Spike's eyes widened and Xander saw him suck in a totally unneeded breath. "You sure about that, luv?" Spike asked softly. "I'm the Big Bad, I am."

Xander just smiled and leaned forward to brush a kiss on Spike's lips before hopping off the counter. He promptly hissed in pain as the movement inadvertently strained the burn, and Spike was at his side in a flash, steadying him before scooping him up and hauling him into the bedroom, protesting all the way.

"I hate it when you do that," Xander muttered after he had been deposited on the bed. "Except when you follow it up with sex. Are we gonna have sex?" he asked, suddenly hopeful.

"Later," Spike said firmly. "First we're gonna talk a bit, pet. I've got a few questions left."

"Great," Xander said, fixing his gaze on the ceiling. "Just great. I suddenly look so pitiful that my evil, undead lover would rather talk than have sex with me."

"I want to have sex," Spike said. "Just not until you tell me about the rest of the dream."

"Fine," Xander sighed, staring mournfully upwards. "I understand. You don't want me anymore. I'm not enough to satisfy you in bed."

"Xan-der," Spike warned.

"I mean, it's not like I haven't gone along with everything you've suggested," Xander continued, as if he hadn't heard the vampire. "Done everything you've asked. There was that time you wanted me to give you a blowjob blindfolded... or the time I was blindfolded and chained to the bed while you fucked me... the chocolate syrup, the feathers, the toys, the costumes..."

Spike's eyes had been starting to glaze over at the recitation, but at the last they snapped into focus again as he glared at Xander.

"Oi, we haven't done costumes!"

"Yet," Xander said persuasively, but Spike refused to let himself be further sidetracked.

"Dream," he said, and Xander sighed in defeat.

"Started in the Bronze. Giles was singing, Faith and Buffy were dancing. They said, 'Two Slayers, no waiting,' and then tried to rip my throat out." He paused. "Why do you want to know this, anyhow?"

"Because, pet," and Spike's voice was overly patient, "with the way the dream ended, it's more than likely that the rest of it might just have been a wee bit important too. So if you'll stop bitching and just tell me the rest of the dream, maybe we could figure out what the hell the whole thing means!"

"Grumpy vampire," Xander muttered, but at Spike's warning glare he continued more-or-less meekly. "Halloween, the night Ethan Rayne let loose on Sunnydale and I turned into soldier-boy."

"Speaking of costumes," Spike said, but then held up a hand when Xander showed evidence of letting himself get sidetracked. "No, no, finish you dream, pet. My fault."

"Right," Xander said, but he'd clearly marked the idea in his mind before he kept going. "Was firing out the door at some demons, and all of them ran away except Drusilla, who said that she was naming all the stars, and Buffy said, 'What do you think you're doing?' Turned around, and she was in slayer gear instead of the Princess getup, and I was carrying an axe. Told her I'd clocked field time, and I was in Buffy's basement with Cordy, only Anya was there too and she'd gotten her powers back. In the graveyard, and Angelus is coming up, but you're behind me and call him Sire, and suddenly he's Angel again. Back in the Bronze again, then Whistler appears."

"Hmmm," Spike said, then fell silent again. Impatient, Xander poked him in the ribs.

"You'd think you have a tad more to say, al the years you spent with Dru."

"I was thinkin'," Spike defended himself, twitching away from Xander's prodding finger.

"So? What do your thoughts tell you, O enlightened one?"

"Pretty simple, actually. Half of it was warning- Ethan Rayne, Anya, Drusilla, Angelus. None of them have reason to play nice with the others, especially not the demon bird, if she's heard about you crawling into bed with me. Half of it was pointers- you had two Slayers, and so there's still one left. Angel. Me. You, with all the time you've spent on the Hellmouth an' all. Getting' it yet?"

"No," Xander said. "But I am eagerly waiting for you to tell me."

"The Slayer's dead," Spike said bluntly, and the pain flinched over both their faces. "But there's still people to fight the good fight. People like you."

"Me?" Xander had his "huh-wha-huh" expression on his face, as if his brain had been caught napping, and was now frantically scrambling to catch up with the rest of the class. Spike's mind added an amusing mental image of a teacher tapping her foot impatiently to his little metaphor, but he shook it away and answered the boy's question.

"Sure, pet, like you. You've lived on the Hellmouth all your life, haven't you?"

"Well, yeah."

"And you were with the Slayer for... how long?"

"Five years," and they both ignored the flash of pain that had gotten all-too-familiar in the handful of weeks since Buffy's death.

"There you go. You have a hell of a lot more experience than most of the soddin' Watcher's counsel. You've got Giles for research, the witches for mojo, and me to hit things. What more do you need to hold the Hellmouth?"

"How about a brain, Spike?" Xander asked, "Since you clearly lost yours?"

But Spike didn't hear him. A startled expression had crossed the vampire's face, and he said, "Bleedin' hell. I think that's exactly what they want you to do. An' he gave you a little present to make it easier."

"Some present," Xander muttered. "Why can't I get the version with the shiny wrapper and little bows instead? And does that mean that you know what the hell it is now?"

"I'd have to check it, but... It's a rune bound into you to attract Fate's attention, basically."

"What?!" Xander yelped. "What have I done to make them want me dead?"

"Idiot," Spike said with little heat. "Wrong type of attention. 'S not that simple. It's a spell that draws her goodwill. Should get you powers or something. Again, have to check it out, but that's the basics."

"Great," Xander said. "I'm gonna be a superhero. Does that mean that I have to wear tights?"


	2. City of Angels

**Chapter Two: City of Angels. **Songs are "I was wrong" by Social Distortion and "Perfect" by Simple Plan.

* * *

****

Angel was having a bad day. No wait, that deserved capital letters. Angel was having a Bad Day.

Yeah, that was it. Because this day deserved the capital letters. Normally he reserved the capital letters for days when the world was going to end, but today, he felt that he could make an exception.

It wasn't that today had really gone that wrong. It started out perfectly normally- waking up, wandering downstairs to get a cup of coffee that Cordy had brewed more for the caffeine kick than the taste, which was what he wanted anyway. Watching with interest as Wesley and Cordelia bickered _again_ over something trivial, but then everyone knew they fought just for entertainment value, and didn't take it seriously.

Except this time Cordy seemed to be truly pissed over whatever-the-hell-it-was, and when Wesley had tried to apologize she'd gone off into a corner to sulk, though she called it "researching." Fred _still_ wouldn't come out of her room, and Gunn had disappeared off into the wild blue yonder as far as Angel could tell, so he wasn't here to smooth things over between Cordelia and Wes like he could sometimes. Angel himself had taken one look at the two of them and had retreated downstairs to play with sharp objects- though he was calling it "exercising."

But then Cordelia had had a vision, and he was all set to ride out to the rescue (by way of the sewers, since the sun was up) when Cordy had told him _who_, exactly, the vision was of. And then the day took an abrupt nosedive, culminating in the smirking bleach-blonde currently standing in his doorway with blanket in his hand and wisps of smoke still curling up from his hair.

"What did you do with Xander?" Cordelia immediately demanded, and Spike turned a truly puzzled glance in her direction.

"Last I checked he was home in bed, but I'm sure he's at work by now," he said slowly. "Seein' as it's a weekday an' all."

She said something nasty and most likely extremely witty in return but he didn't hear her, couldn't quite let her words filter through the fog that was stealing over his brain. Spike. In his hotel. The vampire that was almost but not quite his Childe was standing in the foyer of his home, wearing the same duster and the same smile that it seemed like he always had, mouth curled up a little at the corners as if he was mocking the world. And he was so damned beautiful that Angel felt his unbeating heart constrict in his chest, no matter how much he tried to prevent it.

Spike was everything that reminded him of things he wanted to forget. Bloodsoaked years prowling through Europe, leaving a swathe of destruction in their wake, the first real family he'd had and lost when he gained his soul, six months in an abandoned factory while Spike watched him with those blinding eyes from a wheelchair, and hot pokers through his side while his Childe watched and reveled in his pain.

Just... Spike.

Spike was responding to whatever Cordelia said- some threat about what he would go through if he'd hurt Xander and how she would protect Xander blah blah blah- but Spike's usual soft drawling sarcasm was replaced by white-hot anger, and he was snarling in her face before Angel could move to protect her. "You don't go near him, Princess," Angel heard as he crossed the room. "You don't touch him. Fucking broke his heart and you don't get another chance. And you can just back the fuck off," Spike snarled through a mouthful of fangs to Angel, who by this point had gripped his shoulder and yanked him forcibly away from Cordy. "'S not like I want you around, either."

Angel was slamming him up against a wall now, and suddenly the anger was gone and Spike was laughing, in human face again, leaning against the wall with his muscles relaxed as if Angel didn't have a grip around his throat. "Oh, this is perfect. Told the boy you'd have me against the wall before I could tell you why I came, didn't I, and 'e didn't bleedin' believe me. And now I won the bet, so I get my present. Well, I would if you would ever get off me," he snarked to Angel, who still had him pinned against the wall. "Do you mind? I actually have a message to deliver."

Angel slowly stepped back as his senses told him what they should have before. The scent of sex clung to Spike like a second skin, mixed in with the scent of a human's sweat and Xander's own particular spicy smell, which Angel liked to pretend that he didn't remember and had never noticed in the first place no matter how untrue it might be. There was also no scent of human blood, or fear, or pain- just the pig's blood on Spike's breath that had apparently been his breakfast.

"Angel, what the hell is he talking about?" Cordelia demanded from behind him, but he held up a hand to silence her and kept his attention focused entirely on the person in front of him.

"What message?" he asked, and even to his ears his voice sounded strange. Spike noticed- he always noticed, didn't he?- but either he didn't care or his message was more important, because he answered the question instead of making some mocking comment.

"Xander's working directly for the Powers now," Spike said. "Whistler- you might remember him? He branded Xander with a rune for Becoming. Bloody bastards are trying to make him into the freakin' Slayer, and damned if they aren't gonna pull it off. I'm here to collect you," and he nodded at Angel, "and to check around to see exactly what's going to happen to 'im. And I'd like to do it fast because he's unprotected in Sunnyhell if I'm here, so could we quit with the third degree and let me get on with it?"

"I don't believe you," Cordelia said bluntly, moving into Angel's line of vision as she came up to stand next to him. "I just got a lovely pain-filled vision from the Powers with Xander in it. And you. And something large and slimy. Not really trusting your word when you're a danger to him."

"Blue slime?" Spike asked, and when Cordelia nodded, Spike said, "Right, that was the beastie we fought a couple nights ago. Helfnaar demon. Got a mate, probably, but seein' as they're not much for daylight I have till the sun sets. Which is when I plan to be on my way back to flippin' Sunnyhell anyway, so if you don't mind can we get on with it?"

"He's telling the truth," Angel said heavily. Cordelia pinned him with a disbelieving glare, and he shrugged. "I'd know."

"How the hell would you know whether he was lying or not?" Cordelia demanded, and Spike let out a bitter crack of laughter.

"He just would. Always did, sodding Irish bastard. Are we done now? Can I collect the info and the Pouf and get the hell out of here?"

And here Wesley stepped into the breach. Thank you Wesley, you are a god among men.

"I can perhaps look up the rune, if you'd like," Wes said mildly. Even Angel was surprised at the steadiness of his tone in the face of vampire minus the soul, or was it just that after dealing with Cordy everything else seemed to have fluffy bunny qualities?

"'Preciate it," Spike said amiably. "Won't take too long, though, will it? Wanna be out of here when the sun's setting."

"Shouldn't, no," Wes replied. "It would, of course, go faster if you'd assist me?"

Spike shook his head disgustedly, but relented and wandered into Wesley's office, hands tucked into his pockets. Cordelia rounded on Angel as soon as the door shut and demanded in a furious whisper to know what the _hell_ was going on.

Too tired from the few minutes he'd spent in his Childe's presence, Angel answered her with a distinct lack of tact. "Xander is getting superpowers because the Powers want him as a playtoy. Spike is sleeping with Xander, which is why he's psychotically protective. And apparently Whistler didn't have enough fun with me the first time and wants me to help Xander this time."

Cordelia, being Cordelia, immediately fixed on the more important part of the little speech. "Spike and Xander are sleeping together? That's just... disturbing. I think I want to go throw up now."

"And you don't even know Spike all that well. Just think what it's like for me."

"Not giving me happier thoughts here, Angel. So, other than the incredibly gross thought of Xander and Spike having sex, what did you mean by the rest of it?"

Angel sighed and leaned back against the wall. "The Powers that Be apparently decided that Xander would make a good warrior. And the fact that he's barely even decent as a fighter makes no difference to them. When the subject isn't good enough, forget finding one that is- just go ahead and improve the one you've got till it's up to standard. Whistler is the one who set me on the path of the Powers, and apparently he's back for seconds since Spike said something about taking me back with him."

"Well, he can just think again," Cordelia snapped. "You don't belong to the Hellmouth; you belong to LA. Get it straight, morons," she growled at the ceiling, and then turned her glowering look back on Angel. "He can get his answers and go the hell back to Sunnydale- without you!"

Angel tried really, really hard not to let a little glow of pleasure spread through him at her words, but he wasn't particularly successful. She really wanted him to stay here? "Cordy-" he started, but, as usual, Spike got in the way.

"Buggerfuck!" he heard from inside the office, and with a sigh he turned away from the woman in front of him to deal with his Childe.

Spike was well on his way to working himself into a fine rage, pacing around Wesley's office, which was not designed for pacing in, and waving his arms around as he snarled under his breath. Seeing that he wasn't going to get much of Spike, Angel turned to Wesley.

"What set him off?" he asked.

"This," Wes said, pointing to a section of the text. "Literally translated it's essentially gibberish, but what it means is this: he who is branded will Become all that he is and ever has been. Or, simplified, all of the qualities he has ever had will manifest themselves."

"Stupid buggering fucks are trying to get him killed!" Spike snarled. "Boy's lived on the Hellmouth. If all the things he's ever been fucking manifest themselves, then it's gonna be the War for the Worlds in 'is head. Sophomore he was possessed by a hyena. Junior year it was some soldier. Senior year he was a vampire in an alternate dimension. Last year he was a demon magnet. This year he had his personality split into two bodies. Are you friggin' getting' it now? He becomes all these things at once then sure, he'll be a soddin' superhero an' all, probably more powerful than the Slayer, but the likelihood that he remains sane is about nil."

"Actually," Wesley interjected quietly, "that's not entirely true. Yes, he'll have all of those people inside him, but it's not so much the personalities that assert themselves as the individual beneficial powers that go along with those different people. There's a few references here," and he hefted a huge book with the cover moldering with age, "about men and women branded with a similar mark. Few of them had quite as many experiences as Xander to draw on, but generally the mark is only given to those who have the potential to make full use of it. And those that were given it seemed to remain entirely sane and balanced in their own minds, though from what I remember of Xander the question of his sanity has long been in existence. The major point, however, is that Xander-the-normal-human is always in control, but can draw out varying pieces of all the other Xanders at will."

"Hunting and need a brilliant sense of smell? Bring Hyena-Xander to the fore. Incredible strength and speed? No problem, he's got his own personal vampire. All the demons are going to be coming to him, because he's a demon magnet. Tactics and weapons." Angel recited the litany of potential strengths dryly, trying to project calm onto Spike, who had halted his pacing and arm-waving to stare at him. Please don't start again, Angel thought. Wes'll kill me if you break anything in here.

"Christ, it's brilliant," Spike said wonderingly. "Boy'll be unstoppable if he can ever adjust." Angel nodded encouragingly, then wished he hadn't as Spike fixed his laserlike gaze full-focus onto him. "Pack your stuff, peaches. You're going on a road trip."

"I doubt it," Angel said, and sent a silent apology to Wes in case it happened to set off the younger vampire again.

But Spike just shook his head with an amused smile. "Not lettin' you stay for more than a bit. Boy had some clues in that dream of his. One is you, so you're coming back to Sunnydale until we know why. Understood? Good," he said, not giving Angel a chance to actually answer, "because I want to be out of this hellhole as soon as the sun sets."

****

* * *

Riding down the highway at- Angel glanced at the speedometer- almost ninety miles an hour, watching the cars that they passed, one by one. Like people, all the lives he's passed in his own immortal lifetime. Like ants. Angel suppressed a semi-hysterical giggle and let his head loll back on the headrest.

Spike was humming as he guided the car with far more skill than most credited him with. Angel snorted. Boy'd been around through their entire conception and no one seemed to think that he could drive yet?

And the humming... that brought back memories. Spike had always hummed while he tortured, though he always broke it off to interject with some impossibly snarky comment that was tailor-made to make the pain even worse than his ceaseless humming had.

Or singing, soft crooning lullabies to ease Dru in the wake of one of her visions. Or belting out the lyrics to some horrendously painful song while he wheeled himself around the abandoned factory, still festooned with the decaying remnants of crimson flowers that Dru had wanted so much for her party.

Spike had always liked to sing.

"I got society's blood running down my face/somebody help me get outta this place," Spike sang under his breath, and then stopped with a frown. "Waitta minute. I know that line."

"What?" Angel asked, trying to rouse himself from his semi-delirious stupor. He felt drugged, the good kind of drug that he, as a moral and conscious-endowed vampire, would have of course never tried. Of course.

"A line. From Xander's dream. You said it- 'I'm sorry I hurt them. Did I hurt you too?' It's a line from a song. Bastard's been going through my CD's again, no way that was on the radio."

"What song?" Angel asked with mild curiosity, though somewhere he thought that maybe he should be paying more attention. Maybe. The night air was drugging him, though, like really good.... stuff that he'd never done. Uh-uh.

"I was wrong. Social Distortion." He was silent for a moment. "It's a bit of your story, here. When the Bitch came to town. Well, after."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah. Wanna hear it?"

"Yeah."

And so he did. Flying down the highway to the Hellmouth, listening to Spike's soft smoky voice wrapping around the lyrics over the sound of the tires on the pavement. "I felt so alone/So insecure/I blamed you instead, made sure I was heard/And they tried to warn me/Of my evil ways/But I wouldn't hear what they had to say/I was wrong/Self destruction's got me again/I was wrong/I realize now that I was wrong..."

And it was right, somehow. Just... driving down the highway with Spike singing in his smoky sweet voice and relaxing back into the seat for what felt like the first time in months. Years, even. He'd left Buffy, and moved to LA, and just when he thought he had a friend in Doyle the half-demon had gone and gotten himself killed. And then he'd lost the only anchor he had left to him and had to take care of Wesley and Cordelia, because neither of them could have found their way out of a paper bag if someone had put them in there. Eventually they wised up a little, and Gunn was there too, and things were just starting to smooth over some when BAM Darla comes back to town and fucks it all to hell again. Then he'd lost his friends again even after Darla was gone, and then Buffy had died. No, not just died- Died. Some things just need capital letters, you know?

And he sounded drugged even to himself, but Buffy had Died and he'd tried to run off to... to Cambodia or something, but he couldn't even make it to the docks before he turned around and came back because really, what was the point to running? He wasn't going to find any peace in a monastery in wherever, because he couldn't find peace _anywhere._ But he had here. In the passenger seat of Spike's car, while his Childe drove ninety-three miles an hour down the highway and sang in his smoky sweet voice.

"We're going to need to talk," Spike said quietly, and it was only then that Angel realized that he had stopped singing a few minutes ago. "Now would be best, before we get back to th' boy."

"I.. can do that. Maybe."

Spike waited for a full two minutes for him to say something more, and when he didn't he shrugged and started talking himself. "Seems to me we've got a bit of history to clear away," he said. "Otherwise we're gonna be trippin' over each other all the damn time, and Xander'll have my skin if I'm kickin' your ass every which way."

"Yes, Spike," Angel said sarcastically. "Because that's what _always_ happens, of course, whenever you and I fight. Instead of reality, where it's the exact opposite."

"Well, you've always had a bit of a habit o' doin' that, haven't ya, Peaches? Whether it had a damn thing ta do with me or not. Blood on the floor? Torture Spike. Dru's unhappy? Torture Spike. Stuck in a mineshaft? Torture Spike."

"The last was most definitely your fault, Spike. And if there was blood on the floor, you were usually the one who spilled it. You always were the messiest damn eater I've had the misfortune to be with."

"S'not my fault you were always all, 'Wait, Spike. You can't eat yet. You can't eat until I say so.' Y'always kept me from eating till I was fuckin' starvin' and expected me to keep it neat? Wanker."

"You should've been grateful for someone to exert a little control over your life," Angel said. "Because you sure as hell didn't have any over your own."

"Damn right," Spike said. "'S boring any other way."

"There's something to be said for a little peace," Angel argued. Spike just laughed at him.

Silence reigned in the vehicle again, but after a minute Spike started singing again, softly, mockingly. "Hey dad look at me/ Think back and talk to me/ Did I grow up according to plan?/ And do you think I'm wasting my time doing things I wanna do?/ But it hurts when you disapprove all along..."

Angel watched him with steady, unblinking eyes, and noticed that Spike's voice had lost it's mocking edge and now seemed deadly serious. "And now I try hard to make it/ I just want to make you proud/ I'm never gonna be good enough for you/ I can't pretend that  
I'm alright/ And you can't change me..."

His hands were gripping the steering wheel more tightly now, black nails digging into the cheap plastic with all the tension that was showing in his jaw, now, making his voice harsher and darker, somehow.

"'Cuz we lost it all/ Nothing lasts forever/ I'm sorry/ I can't be perfect/ Now it's just too late and/ We can't go back/ I'm sorry/ I can't be perfect..."

His voice was painful to listen to as he sang the chorus, and as he started singing the next verse he kept sneaking glances over at Angel, somehow managing to hold the car perfectly steady as he did so. "Nothing's gonna change the things that you said/ Nothing's gonna make this right again/ Please don't turn your back/ I can't believe it's hard/ Just to talk to you/ But you don't understand..."

"I understand better than you think, Spike," Angel said quietly. "I just never know what to do with you. I don't want to fight but how the hell else am I supposed to act around you? I'm not the same man who you knew back then, Spike. I'm not even close."

"Well, neither am I, you wanker," Spike growled back. "D'you think that the vamp you knew would be drivin' down the road with his bloody ponce of a souled Sire sittin' in the seat, lookin' forward to a nice evening at home with Xander Harris? Not damn likely. So suck it up, Peaches. There's gotta be some way we can interact without attempting to kill each other alla time."

He paused, grimaced. "I can't believe I just said that."


	3. Thou Invisble Spirit

**Chapter Three: Thou Invisible Spirit.** The chapter title comes from Shakespeare:

"O thou invisible  
spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by,  
let us call thee devil!" --Othello (Act II, Scene 3)

As does the title of the first chapter, since I forgot to credit it earlier.

"To sleep, perchance to dream-  
ay, there's the rub." --Hamlet (Act III, Scene 1)

* * *

****

Angel followed and unusually quiet Spike down the hall, taking in the unobtrusive affluence of the building. Xander had come up in the world, apparently.

The door opened just as Spike raised his fist to knock, revealing a grinning Xander Harris wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a healing burn on his chest. Um. Well. The boy had certainly filled out, that was for sure.

"Excuse me," Xander said to Angel, and hauled Spike across the threshold and into a deep kiss.

Angel tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels as he tried _not_ to look at the entwined couple in the doorway. He kept sneaking glances at them, though, no matter how much he pretended that he wasn't.

The two of them finally pulled apart, a flush warming Xander's cheeks and a happy smirk on Spike's face. Keeping one arm around Spike's waist Xander said, "Welcome home, honey," in the smarmiest possible tone to Spike, then gestured airily at the room behind him. "Come on in, Deadboy," he said to Angel, and detached himself from Spike before wandering into the kitchen. Spike, rather obviously not appreciating being detached, wandered after him.

Angel stepped in and shut the door behind him, leaning back against it as he watched the laughing couple in the kitchen. Spike had set down the groceries on the counter- and damn if that hadn't been a mind-blowing experience, going grocery-shopping with Spike- and Xander was putting them away while Spike shucked out of his duster before taking a packet of blood out of the fridge and put it in the microwave. The vampire lounged against the counter while his blood warmed, making no attempt to help Xander and every attempt to distract him, stretching and rubbing his taught stomach and chest. When the failed, he hooked Xander's foot with his own and pulled him in for a kiss while the boy was trying to carry a bow of soda back into the pantry. Xander tickled him in the ribs to get released, and the incredulous expression on the Spike's face was almost enough to make Angel laugh.

They looked... happy. At ease with each other. As comfortable and settled as an old married couple, and it showed in the easy domesticity of the chore.

"How was work today?" Spike asked from his comfortable lounge against the counter, mimicking Xander's smarmy welcome-home tone of voice. Angel was again forcibly reminded of an old married couple- or Cordelia and Wesley on one of their better days.

"Pretty good, actually," Xander told him. "Couple guys gave me some trouble, but nothing big."

"Nothing to eat 'em for, then?" Spike asked, and Angel reflected wryly that clearly, he had an odd view of domesticity.

"Nothing to eat them for," Xander confirmed, and came over to stand near Spike as the vampire sighed in disappointment. Spike shifted till he was standing behind Xander and wrapped his arms around the boy's waist. Resting his chin on Xander's shoulder, he nodded at Angel.

"You gonna stand there forever, or are you gonna come in and get comfy?"

Angel gingerly stepped away from the door and crossed the living room to lean on the kitchen counter, instead. Spike snorted at him, but Xander just smacked his hand and cocked an inquiring eyebrow at Angel.

"So, what'd you find out about the cattle brand?"

"It draws Fate's attention to you, causes you to Become all you've been before."

"Even I can hear the capital letter 'B'," Xander said. "So, in other words, I'm a soldier, a hyena, and apparently? A vampire."

"How do you know?" slipped out of Angel's mouth before he could stop it, though he really didn't want to _know_ how Xander knew.

In a sort of answer, Xander tilted his head back and latched his teeth lightly into the pale skin of Spike's throat. Angel saw the muscles move in Xander's jaw as he suddenly bit down hard, hard enough to draw blood. Spike purred and Xander drew back enough to lick the red stain from his lips and smile at Angel.

"Answer your question?"

Angel was hard. He was disgusted with himself because of it, but it had been... a long time. And these two together were potent. Spike, lean and hard, covered with leather and silk and with years of blood and sex vibrating between them. Xander, the Slayer's best friend who he _still_ hadn't been able to stop looking at, even then, who stood barefooted and bare-chested in from of him now with muscles earned on the construction site and the wicked twinkle in his eyes that hadn't been there a couple of years ago. Spike with his cold-heat magnetism and leather and cigarettes and drawling sarcastic purr, and Xander with all his flaring warmth and boy-next-door good looks and the grin in his eyes that said he was banging the brains out of the girl next door.

Or maybe the boy.

Spike had always been like this, but this faintly predatory sexuality of Xander's was new. The two of them together were a picture of blatant decadence, and nothing in their attitude suggested that they were ashamed of it.

And he was hard. For Spike. And Xander. Together. And it was just _wrong._

"Yeah," he said. "That answers my question."

* * *

****

Standing outside the door to the Magic Box, trying to nerve himself to just open the damn door. Shouldn't be that hard, should it? He even had Spike standing next to him, holding his hand like some toddler at the doctor's, and Angel's looming shadow comfortingly close to his back. He should be able to do this. He should.

"Um, should warn you, Angel, that it's not going to be pretty in there," he said slowly, trying to hold himself together even though all he wanted to do was fly apart. "Since.... since Glory, it's been a mess, and everyone's falling apart and we haven't really talked much. Like, at all. It's gonna be like walking into a battlefield. One with bullets and bombs. And land mines underneath your feet."

"I got it, Xander," Angel said, but there was no irritation in his voice. "It's okay. I've been through worse in the last couple of months, trust me."

"I doubt it," Spike said, "But it doesn't really matter either way, because we have to go in. Xander luv, want to do the honors?"

"Not really," Xander muttered, but because Spike's hand was laced tightly through his, he gritted his teeth hard enough to make his skull ache and opened the door.

He walked in with a badly cracked but cheerful smile pasted on his face. Willow was sitting on the couch with Tara at her feet; Dawn was sitting at the table with a mug of hot chocolate in front of her, and Giles was behind the counter, scribbling something quickly on a scrap of paper. Anya wasn't there, because Anya had taken off after Buffy's death, which had led to his relationship with Spike. Xander tended to think that he was better off.

He sort of waved to them, unobtrusively freeing his hand from Spike's, and Spike let him. No need to remind everyone that he was sleeping with the vampire; there had been enough fighting the _first_ time that information had made the rounds. The last time he was in this room, in fact, and it had resulted in his and Spike's hurried retreat from the building and weeks of utter silence between them and the rest of the Slayerettes, which had only recently been broken. Just an hour before, in fact, to call and tell them that they had something they needed to talk about.

So to say that Xander was tense would be a rather astonishing understatement, and he wanted very, very badly to be anywhere but standing in the middle of the room with everyone's eyes on him. Back in his apartment, in bed with Spike, was his personal preference.

"Hey," Willow chirped, falsely cheerful, but at least she was trying. Tara smiled a little, but Dawn was staring at him in an odd way, and Giles's gaze was hard and almost vicious, especially when he looked past Xander to Angel, still standing in the doorway.

"What's he doing here?" Willow demanded before Giles had a chance to, and Xander winced a little but spoke up quickly in Angel's defense.

"I invited him," he said, just as Spike said, "I brought 'im." The two of them exchanged an amused glance, then looked at the ceiling as Giles glared harder at them for the little moment of intimacy.

"Yes," Willow said patiently, "but that doesn't explain what he's doing _here._ Oh, and why."

"I'd like to know that as well," Giles said, his gaze fixed diamond-hard on Angel. "Seeing as he didn't see fit to show up for the funeral."

Xander could _smell_ the pain and worry and guilt that were suddenly pouring off Angel's skin, and he glared back at the Watcher. "Giles, play nice."

"It's not as if I was surprised," Giles continued, unheeding. "Walked away and broke her heart, not there when you were needed and could have bloody saved her and couldn't even be bothered to show up at her funeral. She-"

Giles never got a chance to finish, because Xander was suddenly across the room, much to fast for a human to have moved, and was glaring straight into framed brown eyes. Making an abrupt decision, Xander said, "Spike, take him outside, will you?" His voice was mild. "I'll be there in a minute."

He saw Spike shoot him a worried look out of the corner of his eye, but his lover was for once mercifully silent and took Angel by the arm and hauled the older vampire out of the building and onto the sidewalk outside. Hearing the door click shut behind them, Xander said, very sharply, "Don't say a single word."

Willow's mouth, which had been opening to say something or ask something, Xander didn't care which, snapped shut as her unhappy eyes stared at him.

He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, then pulled it off his body. He stood shirtless in the middle of the room, the healing rune visible in stark relief against his tanned skin. Willow and Tara both gasped, while Dawn just stared in morbid fascination, still silent.

"I got this in a dream the night before last," Xander said slowly, every word aimed like little hammer blows at Giles's quiet, closed face. "It's a rune of Becoming. The Powers have decided, for some reason, that until they can find someone better that I'm to guard the damn Hellmouth. We came here tonight to get your help, but I can see that you're no Watcher anymore. You're good for nothing but drinking your life away and bitterly blaming everyone that you come in contact with for Buffy's death. Well, wake up. She's dead. She's not coming back. And you're the worst tribute to her life that you could possibly be. Don't say anything," he reminded Willow when she opened her mouth again. "I'm almost done. Now, we came here tonight for your help, but you don't have any to give. Which is fine by me, actually. We'll keep the beasties away from your door, and you can curl up in a little ball and drink yourself to death. And when the next Slayer is called- I'm guessing a couple months, at the outside- then she'll come here. And I will find her, and tell her the way of things, and let her know not to come to you for help. There's a perfectly well-trained Watcher close by in LA, and if she needs something then Wesley can do it for her." That got a reaction, and not a happy one. Still jealous of your Slayer? She's gone, move on. He stared hard at Giles, then sighed and finished his little speech.

"Because you're useless."

He shook his head with disgust and turned sharply, heading for the door with long strides. Then he stopped, just for a moment, and turned his head to look at the rest of the room. Everyone was frozen, stuck in ice and unable to react. He snorted and left the building, slamming the door shut behind him.

He found Spike and Angel a few steps down the sidewalk. Angel was leaning back against the building, eyes closed, with a bleak expression on his face. Spike allowed himself to shoot a worried glance at Xander, and he smiled to himself in response, knowing that Spike would never have done it if Angel hadn't had his eyes closed.

"Giles has been living at the bottom of the bottle for months," Xander said slowly. "He's not really in his right mind, or even his left or any mind at all that ever belonged to Giles. Except maybe the scary teenage version, and that is so not the point." He shook his head slightly, refocusing his thoughts. "He tries to blame everyone else because he doesn't want to admit that he blames himself."

"Don't worry," Angel said. "You don't need to explain. I get it."

"You don't get a bloody thing, mate," Spike said calmly. "You usually don't. Too much hair gel, fries the brain."

"Says the guy who uses half a bottle every morning," Xander said. "But Angel's grooming habits are definitely not the point."

"Angel's grooming habits are a point all on their own," Spike argued, then held up a hand before Xander could say anything. "Yeah, I know." He turned to his Sire. "Cliffnotes version of that little byplay? You're a moron who lets the angry words of a drunk get to you even when there's not a grain of truth in 'em. Now come home with us and we'll get you drunk and make you watch bad movies till you stop brooding for a bit." He cast an amused look at Xander. "You might want to put a shirt on for a bit, luv," he said with a bit of a laugh buried in his voice. "Might get arrested or something."

"Yeah, yeah," Xander said, and shrugged into his shirt. He put one hand briefly on the bottom button, then shrugged and left it open. He took one of Angel's arms, Spike took another, and they dragged him off without looking back.

* * *

****

Angel was drunk. He hadn't been drunk in a very long time, but then Spike knew how to mix a drink to get anyone smashed- even him. Liberal amounts of something strong mixed in with blood- human blood, and wasn't that a kicker, Xander getting rejected donor blood for his boytoy from the hospital?

They were piled onto the couch in Xander's living room, staring with varying degrees of vacancy at the tv screen. John Carpenter's "Vampires." Christ, what an awful movie- Xander had a decidedly twisted sense of humor. Spike was curled tightly against his right side, almost asleep, with his head pillowed against Angel's chest. Xander was draped over his left side, grinning at the screen and occasionally reciting the worst lines with a mockingly cheesy voice. All in all, it was the most of any sort of physical contact he'd received in a couple years.

Christ, he was so hard he hurt.

He let his head drop back against the back of the couch. This was bad. He had to get out of here. Because he had two men who were lying half on top of him and pretty soon one of them was going to notice the erection straining against the fly of his jeans.

He shifted a little, wanting to see if he could get away with actually moving, but Spike muttered something in his sleep and just curled closer. He couldn't tell if Xander had noticed his movement or not, but one leg curled around his and the arm draped across his stomach tightened a little, trapping him from the other side. Right, so... new plan of action.

"Do you want us to move?" Xander asked. Yeah, maybe he had noticed his movement.

"Yeah," Angel said, neglecting to mention why. Xander tilted his head up a little to give him a warm, sleepy smile, and slid up his chest until his face was just a breath away from the vampire's throat. Angel felt the boy's warm breath on the skin of his throat, and then a hand resting on his thigh. All perfectly innocent, almost, except...

Except Spike was suddenly moving on his other side, and had slid one hand up to the top of his chest and was slowly pulling the buttons out of their buttonholes, one at a time, while his free hand was mimicking Xander's on his other thigh and was slowly sliding higher. Xander moved just a breath closer and licked his throat lightly, right along the place where a pulse would have been throbbing if he'd been human and that should have bothered Xander except he was already sleeping with a vampire and should be used to it and oh _Christ_ Spike had gotten his shirt unbuttoned and was licking at one nipple while rubbing the other with his free hand and the two hands, one cool and the other warm, were almost at their goal and if they got much higher than his control would definitely snap and he'd do something that he would definitely regret in the morning...

"Stop, please," he whispered, his voice just a broken thread of sound, and Xander moved his head just enough to look at him though Spike didn't bother, just switching his attentions to the other nipple while his hand wandered down to brush feather-light circles on his stomach. Xander smiled a little at him and tilted his head, a question in his eyes that was slowly finding its way to his lips.

"Do you really want us to stop?"

His brain stuttered and ground to a halt just before he could tell them that yes, he really did want them to stop, because he suddenly had two hands on his erection and even though the sensation was blunted by the fabric of his slacks it was enough to make him arch off the couch, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. He felt Xander's smile against his throat, and then Spike was moving lower, pressing moist kisses to his belly and then hands were tugging at the buttons of his slacks and this was so, so wrong but it felt so damn good and it had been so long and the sound of the zipper being lowered was loud in the quiet of the room, and it was almost enough to bring him back to sanity except Xander's mouth was on his throat, sucking lightly right over his jugular and he could feel a cool breath over his cock and he'd lost all power to speak, to think, and he was dying...

The smash of the door splintering off its hinges screamed into the sound of muffled breathing, and his eyes snapped open to see a tower of blue slime with eyes standing in the doorway, looking like it was ready to munch on anyone that came near it. Or would be ready to munch on anyone that came near it, if only it had a mouth.

Xander was away from his side in an instant, and Spike leapt up to but kept back as Xander snatched up a sword that just happened to be lying on his coffee table and advanced on the demon. Only one of the Scoobies would keep a sword on the coffee table, he found himself thinking hysterically, and quickly zipped up his pants over his deflating erection and got ready to lunge off of the couch to help Xander.

Only Spike pushed him back down, and when he tried to fight the unyielding grip on his arm he leaned down and hissed into his ear, "Boy's got to learn how to fight all over again now that he has his powers, doesn't he?"

"Now's not the time," Angel argued, but the point was moot since Xander had neatly ducked the first clumsy swing of a slime-tentacle and had stuck the sword straight through the middle of the thing and yanked sideways, cleanly severing it in half. Blue slime exploded everywhere, then evaporated in seconds, just as the one that they'd killed the night before had done, according to Spike.

Xander turned to them and grinned widely, shaking his dark hair out of his eyes. "Self-cleaning demons," he said, and there was a wealth of satisfaction in his voice. "Only the best for the newly-made warriors, yeah?"

"Yeah," Spike said with a proud grin, and jumped up to wrap Xander in a hug. The boy chuckled, then turned in the vampire's embrace to regard Angel with his dark bedroom eyes.

"Demon has a bad sense of timing," he said after a long moment, and Spike nodded silent agreement. Angel found himself pinned by their combined stares, but managed to shake himself free and stood up before starting to button his shirt.

"I can't," he said harshly, far more harshly than he'd meant to. "I have to go."

He'd expected Xander to look hurt, but the boy just shook his head with a grin and started back to the bedroom with Spike.

"Sure," he said over his shoulder. "We got the power turned on in the old factory and it's actually got running water this time, so you should be pretty comfortable there. Lock your door on the way out."

Then the door was shut behind them and Angel was staring after them with a severely bemused expression on his face. Then he shook his head, clearing his thoughts away for the time being, and left the apartment, making sure to lock the door on the way out.


	4. Three's the Very Best Number

**Three's the Very Best Number.**

* * *

****

"So, bleach-boy, you gonna tell me what the hell that was about?" Xander said as he grabbed a can of soda out of the fridge. "I mean, that was... Angel. And we were all over him. And now I'm sulking because we got interrupted and I want him to come back so we can be all over him again. When did this happen?"

"Breathe, pet," Spike told him with a little grin. "What exactly are you worried about, anyway? I mean, I wasn't the only one messing around with the nonce, so there's no reason for you to be jealous or anything."

Xander smacked him on the back of the head and settled back with the can of soda in his hand. "Yeah, you weren't the only one messing around. It's just... it's weird. It's not like we've ever talked about him or anything, and then we were just lying there watching tv and then all of a sudden we're both playing with him and he's getting into it and it was just... weird, okay? Weird that we were playing with someone like that, weird that we were doing it so smoothly we should get paid for it-" Little snicker from Spike at that one. "-And it was weird that it was _Angel_, of all people, and it was weird because I don't know how far we would have taken it if we hadn't been interrupted, and it was weird because I want to find him and start it all over again, and it's all even weirder because I shouldn't _want_ to start over again when I've got you. And a bit weird because I feel a little jealous anyway." He paused and took a huge gulp of air, and then looked at Spike. "Um, was any of that English?"

"I think I got it fairly well, luv. You want me to answer them, or are you just complaining?"

"Answers would be nice," Xander offered, and Spike sighed before settling back against the counter next to him, his hip nudging against the boy's.

"Was afraid you were gonna say that," he sighed, but gave his answers anyway. "Take 'em in order, yeah?" When Xander nodded, he continued. "Right. Well, I don't see how actually talking about it makes any difference to wantin' the pouf, because everyone does even though it'd take hot pokers to get most of them to admit it. It's not that weird to play with someone who's as gorgeous as my Sire is, not that I'll _ever_ repeat that within hearing range of the wanker. That sort of cooperation... that's a bit different, but it's just a bit of what it's like when we're shaggin', readin' each other's minds or near enough, so that really shouldn't be that much of a surprise. Angel's a bit... different from most people, pet, you should know that, and we've both had some history with 'im, so it bein' Angel isn't quite as weird as you think. Workin' up to the end of your little speech, no point in feeling guilty because you liked it, or have you forgotten the lesson I gave you on that after the first time _we_ shagged?"

Xander flushed a little, because he remembered it very well, and gave Spike a half-angry, half-laughing look at the reminder, and waved his soda can for Spike to go on.

"Right, so nothing's wrong with your memory. Anyway, the last bit, 'bout bein' jealous... you don't have to be. You don't ever have to be jealous of me. I was hopin' you'd learned that bit already, but since you haven't, I'm sayin' it now. Just because I might want someone else, or even play with someone else while you're playin' too... It doesn't mean a soddin' thing. I'm yours. For as long as you want me."

Xander was rendered almost completely speechless, which anyone could tell you was almost unheard of, and in absence of words he pulled Spike into an almost painfully tight embrace. Spike wrapped himself around Xander's body and purred a little, low in his throat, resting his head against Xander's shoulder as they stood in silence.

Xander untangled one arm to set the soda can down on the counter, then wrapped it around Spike's back again. "Sometimes," he said, very slowly, "sometimes I wonder that I'm going to go completely insane one day. That everything I've experienced, everything I've done and all the things I've learned about my life that I'd just as soon not know will just... crush me like a load of bricks and I'll lose my mind and nothing will ever bring me back."

Silence hung heavily in the air again, and then Xander dipped his head just a little bit to press a kiss into the stiffly gelled curls at the top of Spike's head. "And then I remember that you're here, and I know that I have nothing to fear."

Spike made a wordless, needy noise at the back of his throat and kissed Xander with rough desperation. Xander kissed him back just as hard, and then finally eased back a bit, breathing hard.

"So," he said casually, then smacked Spike when the vampire broke down into a fit of laughter. "You didn't even hear what I was gonna say!"

"Don't need to," Spike said, still snorting. "Anything that begins in 'So' after a scene like that is bound to end badly."

"That's what you think," Xander retorted. "What I was _gonna_ say was, "So, what do you think about playing with Angel some more?"

Spike blinked at him, then started grinning like a maniac. "Definitely keepin' you, pet. We'll have so much fun."

"I know," Xander said. "And just think of all the mayhem we can get into now that I can actually fight."

**One Week Later**

Various noises were sounding from somewhere just below his ear, and he wondered in an abstract way what the hell they were. Then he managed to force himself into something more closely resembling consciousness, and he realized that the noises were actually voices from the sewer line that ran directly under the warehouse.

"I can't find the bleeding opening."

"Somehow, I find myself not at all surprised by this. Spike, you're a moron."

"Not my fault I never went underground when I was here! I was in a bloody wheelchair, mate! Not exactly easy to find a damn doorway when you've never gone through it!"

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up for a minute, will ya? I'm trying to focus here."

There was silence for a moment, and then Xander said triumphantly, "I got it. Right there," which was probably accompanied by Xander pointing at the doorway.

"You bloody well smelled the damn doorway? That's just not normal. Are you sure that's it?"

"No, Spike, it's not normal. I was never meant to channel my inner hyena, but I am and since I've been through this before, I know what I can do. Go over there and open the damn door, Spike."

Angel heard the door opening somewhere a few feet to his left, and then a few seconds later booted feet were thudding on the floor, coming his direction. He opened his eyes, hoping against hope that it was all a hallucination, but as it turned out, no such luck. Spike was looming over him, grinning cheerfully, looking far too wide-awake, considering that this was Spike. Spike never got up this early. For Christ's sake, it was only a couple hours past dawn, and knowing those two they'd been up till way past midnight, combing the graveyards and then going back to their apartment to have sex.

He'd heard the rumors on the few occasions he'd ventured out of the warehouse in the last week and went to some of the demon bars in Sunnydale. Spike was up to his old tricks again, killing his own kind and everything, but now he had a sidekick that was stronger than any vampire. A few of them thought that he looked a lot like one of the former Slayer's humans, but the idea was quickly dismissed because the Slayer's groupies were all human, and had certainly never fought like this.

"What the hell are you doing up?" he demanded, which probably shouldn't have been his first question but he was tired, damn it, having only gotten a couple hours of sleep. Spike just grinned at him some more and leaned against the hearth.

"I made him get up," Xander said as he closed the door again. "And I have to admit I'm curious as to why you're asleep on the couch when there is a perfectly good bed about ten feet away, through that doorway."

"Too tired," Angel muttered. "Why are you here?"

"Have something I have to prove," Xander said cheerfully. "But you're not gonna have the energy to play, apparently. Got a present for you."

Angel blinked at the apparent change of topic, and said, very slowly, "And what would that be?"

"This," Xander said, and took out a knife. Angel's eyes widened, and his muscles tensed to roll away, but Xander brought the knife down on his own arm and sliced a shallow cut open neatly on his inner arm.

"Drink," he said.

Angel started to shake his head, but then the smell of blood hit him like a physical assault. Warm, fresh blood. Human blood, only it wasn't quite human- there was a smell of magic in it, of magic and demon and vampire, and he wanted to say no but couldn't... quite... resist....

Angel drank.

Not a lot. He was worried about weakening the boy, though he suspected that it would take a lot more than a little blood loss to slow down the particular Powers-created fighting machine. But still, he didn't take much, if only because it was already coursing through his own bloodstream and he was afraid that if he took too much he was going to be drunk, drugged on Xander Harris's blood. So he stopped, already looking around for a bandage.

"Don't bother," Xander said, guessing his intent, and gestured to his arm, which was already closing up. Angel watched, fascinated, as the shallow cut literally disappeared from sight.

"Even a vampire doesn't heal that fast," Angel said slowly, and Spike came over to stare with interest at Xander's arm. Xander grinned at them both.

"A vampire does if he was turned by the Master and shares blood with another vampire," Xander said with a grin. Angel looked at Spike, who looked at the ceiling. "And my flesh is part human, which wants to heal faster, for some reason."

"Your vampire self was turned by the Master?" Angel asked, and Xander nodded. Something in his eyes was making Angel's skin crawl, though, and he couldn't quite understand why. It had been bothering him since Xander had first entered the room, and he was beginning to guess that it had something to do with Xander-the-vampire.

"There's something else," Xander said slowly. "The vampire me, in the alternate dimension? He, well..." He paused, struggling for words. Spike looked just as curious as Angel, so apparently Xander hadn't told his other half everything.

"He was with Willow, I guess you know that much. And vampire-Willow was more than a little psychotic, which I think you also know. She liked to play. With a puppy."

Angel was starting to think that he really didn't want to hear this.

"The 'puppy' was you, Angel. That's why your skin is pouring off fear right now, because some part of you remembers the vampire me, and you're terrified."

Angel nodded slowly- this made sense. This made a bit too much sense, if you asked him, which no one did because since when did anyone ask his opinion any more and actually care about the answer? Which was not the point. His brain had gotten off track yet again.

"So, it's like this. We've been killing lots of things, and it's fun and all, but it occurred to me recently that I should probably learn slightly higher-class fighting skills than Spike's particular brand of street fighting mixed with poking things with sharp metal poles. And you're the only one we've got to learn from, at the moment. So here we are."

Oh, bad idea.

"Xander, I don't think-"

"That's it's a good idea?" Spike finished for him. "Well, I'm not all that fond of the idea either, mostly because you're gonna try to teach 'im Tai Chi or some foofy shit, but you're going to do it anyway."

"Why's that?" Angel wanted to know. He wasn't exactly convinced that this was the best idea, but Spike was starting to make sense. Which was just weird. Especially considering that Spike wasn't making any effort to convince him at all, and was essentially telling him what to do. But then, he still felt a little out of it from Xander's blood, so he was going to use that as an excuse for actually considering doing something Spike told him to do.

"Because Xander's right, and there's no one else. He's a blend of vampire, and hyena, and soldier, and a gormless carpenter geek."

"I heard that," Xander said.

"Giles used to be a decent fighter," Spike said, ignoring him, "but we all know what he's turned into now. 'Sides, I know you used to spar with the Slayer, before you skipped town."

"Buffy was something different," Angel protested. "She wasn't like any other fighter, ever."

"Well, neither is Xander," Spike growled back. "What part of vampire-hyena-soldier did not sink into your soddin' thick skull?"

"Spike, shut up," Xander suggested pleasantly. "We have bigger problems right now, like a Hellmouth to deal with, and I can't deal with it unless I have some better training, which we're going to start now. And you don't really have any sort of excuse to get out of this, Angel, because you're more than awake. Bet your skin is buzzing right now, isn't it?"

Angel nodded, puzzled. "How did you-"

"Can smell it, can't I?" Xander said irritably. "Now, can we get started now?"

"Yeah." Angel stood and stretched. "Yeah, I think we can do that."

* * *

****

"Ow."

"Spike, stop whining. I barely tapped you. I've hit you harder _before_ got all magicked up."

"Ow, ow, damn it all to sodding hell, Xander, you were supposed to have my _right_ side, not my left. Ow."

"No, I was supposed to take your left, since Angel was supposed to be on my left, because we're fighting with me in the center, remember? Stop whining, you big vampire baby. It's your own fault for forgetting which side you were supposed to be on, not mine."

Angel watched this all with a great deal of bemusement. Xander was... beautiful to watch in motion. He and Spike had started out sparring, leaving Angel to watch for a while before he joined in. The two had clearly fought together before, because every move they made was a perfectly choreographed improvisation of fists and booted feet and swiftly moving bodies. They'd finally let him in, and it had taken him a few minutes to adjust to their pattern, but once he found it the three of them had settled into the movements as if they were born to them. When Spike could remember which side he was supposed to be on, anyway.

"Dinner break," Xander announced, as he turned and made his way back into the kitchen. "You too dig into the nummy O positive I left in the fridge; I'm ordering pizza."

"Don't get it with bloody pineapple!" Spike howled as Xander started dialing. "I can't stand the stuff."

"Hello, I'd like an extra large Hawaiian and a medium Meat Lover's. Yep, thanks," and there was a long pause. Xander sighed and rattled off an address, too fast for Angel to hear, before hanging up. Spike was giving him a sulky look, his lower lip looking like it was ready to slide into a pout any moment. Xander sighed.

"What did I do this time?"

If anything, Spike's sulky lip quivered just a little bit more. "I don't get an extra large?"

"You're drinking blood, Spike," Xander said patiently. "You don't need the pizza, and I know for a fact that you only eat it because it grosses me out to see you dunk it in blood. So no, you don't get an extra large. Live with it. Or unlive. Or whatever."

Quiver... twitch... BAM there went the pout. Angel felt himself melt a little on the inside- never could resist Spike's pout- but Xander just laughed, right into Spike's face. Apparently Xander was a little more immune, living with the vampire as he was.

The boy glanced out the window, and saw that the sun had gone down. Angel watched as his muscles grew considerably more tense, and he moved casually to the front of the building, where he could see anyone coming up the road. Or anything. He carried on a bantering conversation with Spike, but his eyes never stopped roaming restlessly about the grounds.

Spike evidently noticed that Xander's heart wasn't in their argument, and demanded to know what was wrong. Xander shrugged a little and said, "You know how Willow once cast a spell so that her will would be done?"

"Bloody hell, couldn't forget being engaged to her Buffyness," Spike said with rancor. Xander shot him a little half-glance out of the corner of his eye before fixing his gaze back onto the road.

"Yeah, well, it made me into a demon magnet. Don't want to be caught napping, is all."

Oh, so that's what it was. "Xander," Angel said gently, "this building is warded. You don't have to be on your guard here."

Xander relaxed a little, though not all the way, and gave him a relieved grin. "Good to know. Don't supposed you could give me something like that for my apartment building?"

"Sure, I can do it. May have to call Wesley for some expert advice, but yeah, I can do it. I can actually call Wes and get him to see if there's some sort of shielding spell for the demon magnet affect- there may be something that you could turn on and off at will, so that you could go to work or even go out at night without worrying about being attacked all the time."

"That would be bloody perfect," Spike said with a groan, and settled into an overstuffed armchair with an air of a man who doesn't feel like moving another step. "Took out three demons and two vampire on the way here, and I'm not looking forward to the trip back, either. Least it'll be through the graveyard, rather than stuff in the sewers. Not exactly a hell of a lot of room to swing, is there?"

"Yeah!" Xander agreed emphatically. "You chipped my best sword, damn it!"

"Not my fault!" Spike growled at him. "Not a whole hell of a lot of choice, there, pet. It was pretty much me or the edge of the blade, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Xander muttered. "You always say that. Well, room to swing or not, I'm still not looking forward to the trip home."

"You don't have all your fighting moves down yet or anything," Spike chimed in, and that was the first inkling that Angel got that there was a plot afoot, because Spike never agreed with Xander unless it had something to do with sex. The two of them seemed to enjoy their constant battles, almost like it was another form of foreplay, and oh shit moving his brain away from there. He didn't need to think about warm tongue and lips and cool hands and teeth worrying his nipple... No, not thinking about it. Bad Angel.

Either way, he should have paid better attention to his instincts when they screamed at him that this had to be a setup of some sort, but they were all dead- figuratively- after the exhausting day of fighting. Xander, who'd had the least experience of all of them, should by all rights be the most tired, but instead he seemed to be almost overflowing with energy. It was unnatural.

"I'll walk back with you," Angel offered, and then realized that he'd been manipulated by a couple of masters, and he was now stuck going back with them to their apartment, which he had planned to avoid at all costs. They both gave him identical wide, guileless grins, and Angel let his head drop with a thunk onto the coffee table in front of him. Right, don't damage the brain cells, Angel, you're gonna need them to think your way out of this mess....

"Which is a good thing," Xander said cheerfully, "because the pizza guys won't deliver out here. Too many of them have gotten eaten, what with the history you two have with this place. We need to head back just about now to get there before the delivery man."

Oh shit... It was even worse than he thought. Not only had Spike and Xander managed to get him back to their apartment, but they were gonna do it before he had a chance to think a way out of it, too. There was no other way of looking at it- he was fucked.

Which was exactly what he was afraid of.


	5. Waiting for Tomorrow

**Chapter Five: Waiting for Tomorrow.** Short chapter.

* * *

****

Xander was in an extremely bad mood, and it showed. Spike sprawled on the couch and watched with interest as he stomped around the room, retrieving bandages and ointment from various places that they'd been scattered to _last_ time he'd gotten cut up on patrol. He made as if to get up from the couch, but Xander glared at him and he settled back down again. No point in pissing the boy off even more.

"I'm gonna kill the stupid bastard," Xander muttered to himself. He picked up the tube of ointment that had somehow ended up underneath the kitchen sink, and stared at it with puzzlement in his eyes before shaking his head as if he just didn't want to know.

"Which stupid bastard, luv, me or Angel?" Xander opened the tube, then promptly threw it across the room when he found out that it was empty. Spike winced at the new dent in the wall. "No need to take it out on the wall, luv. I doubt it had anything to do with it. Whatever it is."

"Angel," Xander answered, once again searching for a tube of ointment, one that actually had some in it this time. "Bastard took off before we could lure him into staying the night here. And you, because you got hurt, thus allowing him to get away with taking off before we could lure him into staying the night here."

Spike winced again. He'd hoped that Xander would forget that minor detail.

"Er, you do know that we have weeks to seduce Angel? Tomorrow, even," Spike pointed out, when Xander glared at him. The glare didn't lessen any at his hasty addition.

"No, we don't have tomorrow. Something bad always happens tomorrow, don't you know that?"

There was an undercurrent to his tone that sounded more like hysteria than irritation, and Spike frowned. There was something going on here. Something much more than his Xander simply being pissed about losing a chance to seduce his Sire. Because, sure Spike was looking forward to it, if it ever worked, but this was... beyond the scope of sex, and more into the reach of danger, real danger, the kind where even the best fighters aren't sure that they're going to win.

His skin tingled just thinking about it.

"What's wrong, pet? I mean really wrong."

"It's tomorrow, see? Something's going wrong tomorrow."

"Xan, luv, you aren't makin' a bit of sense."

"I can't say any more than that, because I just _don't know._ All I know is that something's going wrong tomorrow because it's this big itch between my shoulder blades and shadow images whenever I close my eyes and it's _bad,_ Spike, really bad and I don't know what to do to stop it."

Spike reached out and snagged a pacing Xander by one arm, neatly hauling him down onto the couch next to him. Ignoring the chunk that the demon had taken out of his shoulder, Spike wrapped one arm around his lover and rubbed his cheek against Xander's. "Calm down, luv. You're tellin' me that you're getting some sort of message from the Powers or somethin', aren't you." It wasn't a question.

Xander slumped against his side. "Yeah. Something like that. Only they won't tell me what's going to happen. They're just sort of suggesting that something is going to happen."

"Not too helpful," Spike growled. "Not too helpful _at all,_ damn it. Buggerfuck. What are we supposed to do, then?"

"Warn Angel?" Xander suggested. "Should probably drop a word to Willow, too," he added doubtfully. "Wonder if she would actually listen to me?"

Spike snorted. "Not bloody likely," he said scornfully. "Not after your little scene in the Magic Box a week ago. She probably thinks you're one of the bad guys now after the right proper cut-down you gave to the Watcher."

"She might," Xander insisted, then deflated. "No, she wouldn't. So warn Angel, then... wait? Or something?"

"Sounds 'bout right," Spike said. His voice sounded just as tired as he felt, even to his own ears. "Bloody hate waiting."

"I know," Xander said soothingly. He shifted a little, then noticed Spike's hiss of pain when the movement jostled his shoulder. "Shit, Spike, I'm sorry."

"S'okay, pet, it's healing over already. No point in bandages and all that. Jus' be careful of it, yeah?"

"Sure," Xander said, and when he stood up he gripped Spike by the arm and hauled him gently to his feet. "I'll be real careful," he added, leading Spike back into the bedroom. "You can just lie there and let me do all the work."

Spike grinned at him as he began to unbutton his shirt. "Lie back and think of England, that it?"

"Something like that," Xander said with a wicked smile. Spike stretched lazily, making sure that his admittedly gorgeous body was displayed to best advantage.

"Do you worst."

Xander finished shedding his shirt and crawled onto the bed till he was looming over Spike, grinning fiercely down at him. "Oh, I intend to."

* * *

****

The knocking came to his ears as if through a very long tunnel. He slowly surfaced from the heavy blackness of sleep, and it occurred to him that the knocking was someone at his door, wanting inside. Reflexively he checked the angle of light seeping around the edges of the drapes, and guessed that it was roughly ten o'clock in the morning. Too early a start on what he was somehow sure was going to be the Day From Hell.

He leaned over and pressed a kiss on the still-asleep Spike's forehead, and staggered out of the bed. Spike immediately curled into the warm spot he'd left, a little wrinkle of irritation forming between his eyebrows, and Xander smiled affectionately at the lump under the covers as he pulled on a pair of jeans. Zipping them up, he emerged from the bedroom and made his way across the living room floor, hoping that whoever had been knocking was still there because he would be really upset if he'd gotten up for nothing.

It was Dawn, and she hadn't gone away. Instead she was standing on his doorstep, looking a little uncertain, with a small leather bag in her hands. Xander didn't ask, just looked at her for a long moment before stepping away from the door and gesturing for her to come in.

She did, looking around with a slight expression of nervousness on her face. "Where's Spike?" she asked, her voice low. Xander shrugged.

"Still in bed," he said. "Spike's not an early-risin' kinda guy." _Neither am I,_ his expression said, but he was just barely polite enough not to say it out loud. She saw it, though, and blushed a little as she twisted the drawstring of the leather bag between her fingers.

"I... missed you guys. So I asked Willow and Tara to drop me off here."

"What did they say?" Xander said, with a small degree of curiosity. Dawn tried out a small smile.

"They didn't say anything, but Tara tossed Willow the keys, and Willow picked up this and told me to give it to you before I got out of the car." She proffered the little leather bag and he took it, hefting its slight weigh in his hand with an expression of slight puzzlement.

"It's a spell of binding," Dawn said. "That's all she told me. I saw something like it in one of... in a book, recently. It's supposed to bind lovers closer, or something like that. I think she was giving you two her blessing."

"Red's got hidden depths, then," Spike said from the bedroom doorway. Dawn looked up and blushed when she saw that all he wore was a sheet wrapped around his waist.

"Yeah, Willow does that sometimes," Xander said absently, still staring at the bag. "Spike, go put some clothes on."

"'S not what you told me last night," Spike said with a tiny smirk, but went back into the bedroom obediently when Xander gave him a Look. Dawn's face was a little bit awed by the show of obedience.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" he asked Dawn. "Spells aren't exactly my area of expertise."

"I think you're supposed to put it under your pillow," Dawn said, and blushed again. God, she looked young. Xander nodded and set it on the nearest surface, which happened to be the coffee table.

"Tell Willow thanks for me. Oh, and one other thing," he said, and his expression was serious when Dawn looked at him. "There's going to be all Hell breaking loose today. I don't know what, and I don't know how or why, but I know that there'll be lots of bad. Tell her to protect herself. Tell her that I'll deal with the rest of it."

"All on your own?" Dawn asked. Worried for him, how sweet. Cold, Xander, cold. He wondered if it was the vampire in him that darkened his soul, because he found it hard to care how callous he was being, even if it was in his own head.

"I have Spike," was all Xander said. Then, after a pause for thought, he added maliciously, "And Angel to watch our backs, of course."

"Of course," Dawn said, made her excuses, and left.

* * *

****

"Angel! What the hell happened to you, mate?"

Angel groaned as Spike's voice assaulted his already pounding head. "Drusilla," he managed to get out from between clenched teeth. "Got through the ward because she's my blood, same way you did. She's here with a Chaos mage; I could smell the stench all over her."

"Shit," Xander said succinctly, and grabbed at Angel's shoulder. Angel was opening his mouth to protest when Xander got a proper grip and hauled him neatly into the air and over his shoulder. Angel was too shocked to protest when Xander started walking away- where were they going, anyway? He knew was hurt pretty damn bad when he couldn't even care that the upside-down Spike he could see from his point of view of somewhere near Xander's ass was smirking at him, just like the real Spike would. Damn Spikes. Should have known better than to let Drusilla wander after pretty boys into dark alleys when she wanted a playmate... Ow!

Ten minutes later a very shaky Angel was deposited unceremoniously on the bathroom floor and was promptly stripped of his torn and bloodied clothing. He finally succumbed to unconsciousness while Spike busily sponged him off, and so wasn't able to scold the younger vampire for licking away the worst of the blood instead of washing it off in slightly more mundane ways. Xander came back in and picked him up again while Spike looked on in deep appreciation- damn his boy was fine- and dumped him back down again, this time in the bed.

The two of them collapsed onto the thankfully large bed with a long sigh and curled against the larger bulk of the unconscious vampire. They fell asleep instantly, and Xander didn't even think about the little leather pouch that he had placed under his pillow earlier that morning until the next morning.

By then it was too late.


	6. Toil and Trouble

**Chapter Six: Toil and Trouble.** Yet another Shakespeare quote. I thought it apt.

"Double, double toil and trouble;  
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble." –Macbeth (Act IV, Scene 1)

* * *

****

Xander came awake instantly, shifting in the space of a breath from sleep to wakefulness. He lay still for the space of exactly two and a half seconds, just long enough to figure out that there was a body on top of his- a naked, room-temperature body that was much to big to be Spike and not Angel, because Angel was snoring behind him- and then sat upright, tossing said body to the floor with a terrific heave.

The unknown-vampire-thing leapt up, stumbling over another, human body in the process, and then all three of them froze. Xander, sitting on the bed, looked in astonishment at the Xander wearing camo, and then at the Xander with a vampire face. Oh, this was bad.

"What's the situation?" Camo-Xander demanded, and Vamp-Xander snarled back at him, "Got split apart, you dumbass."

"You know, I have to say that this really isn't a good thing," Xander told them both. "Anyone agreeing with me?"

"No," Vamp-Xander snapped. "Fuckin' heartbeat."

Okay, that was succinct. "Camo-Xander?"

"Strange," was all that he said. Xander rolled his eyes and then glanced behind him at the rest of the bed. Angel was still out cold, but Spike was awake and staring at the other two Xanders with an expression that was half shock and half... lust?

Oh, no, he thought. No sex with me and my doubles. Bad Spike. He opened his mouth to say all these things, but what came out was, "Look, it's me in soldier gear, just like you wanted."

A half-smirk, half-smile spread across Spike's lips. "Trust me, luv, I noticed."

Shit.

Scrambling for a way out of this potentially very embarrassing situation, he found a lifeline in the shape of the still-sleeping Angel. "Hey Deadboy," he hissed, and poked the vampire in the shoulder. "Wake up. We have a problem."

"Wha?" he said, struggling awake. Thinking back on what he knew of Angel he had to think that he must have been hurt rather badly the night before, because Angel seemed the type to snap awake rather than struggle.

"I _said_, wake up, we have a problem."

Angel looked at the other two Xanders for a long moment. "_You_ do indeed have a problem, don't you, boy?"

Vamp-Xander leered cheerfully at Angel. "Hey, it's the puppy."

Angel's glare appeared, and it was sudden, intense, and vicious. "I'm nobody's _puppy_, fledge."

"Seems to me that's not quite how it happened," Vamp-Xander said. "Seems to me you were everyone's playtoy when the Master rose."

Angel snarled at him, and Spike smacked a hand on his chest. "Watch it," he told the older vampire. "Don't take 'im apart, he's Xander too. Just more sodding annoying."

Xander started to get a bad feeling. He reached under his pillow and picked up the little pouch, then looked at his doubles and Angel. "A spell for binding..." he murmured. "Spike, is reverse magic something that a Chaos mage would do?"

Spike caught on quickly. "It unbound your different parts. Vampire and soldier, and I guess the demon magnetism and the hyena are still in you."

"Yeah. Still have my sense of smell and everything. But that's not the real problem here."

"Yeah?" Spike asked, but Xander could see in his eyes that he'd already figured it out.

"Angel isn't entirely Angel anymore," he said quietly. "But at least he's not entirely Angelus either."

Angel glanced at him, and his gaze softened into something very like fear. "What do you mean?"

"Willow gave me'n Spike a spell," Xander told him. "To bind us closer. It was her way of giving her blessing, I guess. Anyway, you were attacked by Drusilla last night, said that she was with a Chaos mage. And if I remember some of the stuff from all the incredibly large and dusty books I've been forced to look through in my time, then one of the provinces of Chaos magic is reversing spells. As in, forcing them into their opposite effect. So it unbound my parts, but only sorta unbound your soul."

"Only sort of?" Angel demanded. "Oh, that's so very comforting to know that it only _sort of_ unbound my soul. Not that I'm complaining, but why are you all separated and I'm only wavering back and forth between me and my demon?"

"Because I didn't get this way by being tied together with a spell," Xander explained irritably. "It was more of a thing where I channeled all of them into one person. You were bound together by magic, and by Willow's magic, no less. She's pretty friggin' strong. Much stronger than that aging Chaos freak."

There was a moment of silence while Xander and Spike both remembered Willow's part in the attack on Glory and how it all ended, but they shook it off. Xander felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Vamp-Xander, staring down at him with something like concern on his face.

That provoked another question, and he turned around to leave Spike to deal with Angel and focused on his doubles. "Okay, we have some stuff to work out. Vamp-Xander, do you have a soul?"

"Sort of," Vamp-Xander said. "It's not so much 'Don't kill him, you'll regret it later,' as 'Don't kill him, the other Xander will regret it later.' I don't have a conscience, but I do have yours." Then he looked at Camo-Xander. "Notice I said "other _Xander,"_ singular, soldier-boy. Got no use for you."

"That makes sense. I think," Xander added, and ignored his double's slur in order to move on to Camo-Xander. "Do you have all my memories?"

"Yes, sir," Camo-Xander said, and Xander shook his head. Now he knew why he never wanted to join the military- look what he'd be turned into!

Vamp-Xander had moved closer, and he leaned against his double unconsciously. Camo-Xander stayed where he was, and Xander suspected that he would remain there until he was ordered otherwise.

"Alright. Vamp-Xander... This is ridiculous. My tongue's getting tied up in knots."

"Can't have that, can we, luv?" Spike purred from right over his shoulder, and he turned to brush a kiss over his lips. Then a deeper kiss, just to make sure that his tongue wasn't really tied up in knots.

Vamp-Xander growled, and Xander looked at him, startled. His double gave him a toothy grin, and he just shook his head, not really wanting to get into it at the moment. It felt extremely wrong to be attracted to himself. He'd think about it later.

"Right, so... we need to see if we can get this fixed. Spike, Angel, any ideas?"

Both vampires looked at him with consternation- all three vampires, actually, since Vamp-Xander was staring at him with the exact same expression as the two more familiar vamps. "Right, so obviously none of you have any ideas. Why am I not surprised?"

"Because you have very good memories of how my plans turned out?" Spike said, with perfect seriousness. "And Angel's plans tended to get him sucked into hell."

"Of course, how silly of me to have forgotten." He turned to Vamp-Xander, following his double's lead and ignoring the soldier-him, because apparently too many years off in the ether before he was crammed back into Xander had changed him from a commanding presence to a robot that knew his way around a machine gun and a rocket launcher. "Are you as clueless as they are, or are you just pretending to make them feel better?"

"I'm pretending so I can laugh at them later, rather than now," Vamp-Xander said with a perfectly straight face. "Pleasure is sweeter when you delay it awhile."

"Good to hear it," Xander said with a little grin, and pretended he didn't hear the dark purr under his double's voice that simultaneously sent a happy little shiver down his spine and gave him the creeps. He was also pretending that he didn't know what sort of pleasures Vamp-Xander was _really_ talking about, and that he the happy little shiver had never happened.

Denial was such a wonderful thing.

"How about this? Angel/Angelus-"

"-Puppy-"

"-Whatever will look for Ethan and Drusilla, and Spike will go with him-"

"-Because we can't trust either of them alone-"

"-And you and I will go find Willow, and see if we can deal with putting me back together again."

"Putting _him_ back," Vamp-Xander corrected with a little nod towards Camo-Xander, who was still staring off into space with his hands folded behind his back and a blank expression on his face. "He's no good on his own, and I am." Xander must have looked doubtful, because Vamp-Xander added with a little smirk, "Besides, you think even Willow could honestly stuff me back if I didn't want to go?"

Xander considered briefly that Vamp-Xander knew the full reaches of Willow's dark power much, much better than he himself did. Then he pretended he hadn't considered that, and considered some of the more practical applications of this split-apart thing.

"I still have the hyena strength," he said slowly, working it out in his head as he spoke. "And you have vampire strength, of course." He grinned suddenly, and was mildly disturbed to see the exact same expression cross the face of his vampire double. "Okay, now this sounds like fun."

Spike and Angel had been watching this whole thing with great fascination, but at this Angel opened his mouth, apparently seeing some great unwisdom about this plan. Spike threw an elbow into his gut to shut him up, then smiled blithely at both Xanders and said, "Have fun at the witch's place."

Beside him, Angel snarled in a distinctly Angelus-like way, and Xander decided that _now_ would be a prudent time to leave.

Right now.

* * *

****

To say that Willow was surprised to see three Xander's standing all in a row when she opened her door was a bit of an understatement. She was also experiencing a dizzying feeling of déjà vu, plus one. And then the Xander on the left shifted to game face, flashing fangs at her in a grin, and her eyes closed as she wished very, very hard that they'd just disappear.

Cautiously, she opened one eye. Nope, still there, unfortunately. "Please tell me you're bringing me cookies, or something."

Vamp-Xander held up a little plate with... hello, chocolate chip! Wrapped in translucent pink Saran wrap, too. She took it, then looked at the... um, three of them with wide eyes. "I was kidding, you know."

"We know-" Xander-in-the-middle started, but Vamp-Xander interrupted with, "It's a bribe." His voice was low and sort of purring, and it seemed sort of familiar, a fact which she determinedly ignored. "We need you to put him-" a nod at the Xander-on-the-right, who was dressed in camouflage gear, "-into Xander."

She just looked at him for a second. "And not you?"

He shrugged. "I'm bored."

Which, for Xander, even Xander's vampire-self, answered absolutely everything. Well, maybe not as much as it would have answered for Drusilla, of Willow's vampire-self, or even Spike... she was getting sidetracked. "And you think I'm going to do this _why_?"

"Willow," Xander said. "Look at him. Do you really want him left to wander around on his own?"

She took a moment to actually examine the Soldier-Xander, and thought that maybe Xander was right. He was standing with his hands folded neatly behind his back, his eyes focused on some point right in front of him that only he could see.

"It's like he's become nothing _but_ a soldier," she said, fascinated. "Like all personality was wiped away somehow."

"It didn't happen to me," Vamp-Xander said. "And Xander's his usual self. It's just that one."

"I'd really love to figure out how-" And then she paused, and looked at the expression on Xander's face. "We don't have time for that, do we?"

"It's a bit complicated," he said ruefully. "It might actually take more time than we have to explain-"

"Drusilla and Ethan Rayne are in town, and Ethan messed with your binding spell, which is why there are three of us and Angel is wavering between Puppy and Angelus."

"Okay, maybe not that complicated," Xander said. "Um, but we really need to hurry. Because Angel is going after Ethan and Dru, and he's all wobbly, soul-wise, and Spike's with him. Do I really need to say any more?"

"No," Willow said, her voice a little faint. "No, you really don't."

* * *

****

"You know, I'm thinking that this occasion needs something a bit special. What do you think, William? Do you think we should perhaps get a present for our sweet Drusilla?"

"How about we give her the chaos bloke's heart, and send her on her way, and it's all even," Spike said, trying not to let his voice show how disturbed he was by this Angel/Angelus thing. Angel was a broody poufter, and the after-soul Angelus was someone that he was not known for getting along with, so the combination of them both was driving him nutters. "And you know, I really soddin' hate bein' called William. It's _Spike,_ for sweet Christ's sake."

"William's a fine name," Angel argued, one eyebrow cocked cheerily and a familiar smirk lurking around the corners of his mouth. Angel or Angelus, he always had gotten a charge out of driving Spike to the limits of his sanity with just a few well-chosen words. "It suits you."

Spike clenched his fists, hard enough for his nails to dig bloody grooves into the skin of his palms, and opened his mouth, a vicious and scathing retort already rising to his lips. And then he stopped.

Xander would kill him if he let Angel bait him into starting something.

He sighed and forced his fists to unclench through sheer power of will. "Fuck that. Let's go. We have a Chaos mage to kill."

Angel looked disappointed, but knew, from long experience, when to push things and when to back off and wait for a better opportunity. He gave up for the moment and followed when Spike resumed his irritated stride down the middle of the road that led out to the old factory.

He stopped just a few steps later, when he heard the noise from the trees to his right. Angel opened his mouth to ask what the hell was going on, or some such stupid question, but Spike held up one hand in a blatant request for him to shut the hell up and listened harder. There, just a few feet in front of him... He could see a shadowy figure, hidden in the shadows of trees, breathing with just a slight rasp. Not human. Some sort of demon.

"Who the hell is there?" he demanded, and laughter echoed out around him, harsh female laughter that was most definitely not human.

It was, however, very familiar.

* * *

****

Xander prowled down the empty street, his hyena side fully to the fore as he tracked Angel and Spike by scent. Vamp-Xander sauntered in his wake, slowly unwrapping a bright red lollipop.

Xander stopped dead with no warning at all and whirled on his double just as the vampire put the lollipop in his mouth. "You stole one of Willow's lollipops," he said, accusation heavy in his voice. "How could you? Haven't you heard of asking first?"

"Of course I stole it," Vamp-Xander said patiently if awkwardly, talking as he was around the lollipop tucked in his cheek. "I'm evil. Besides, she had them in a little bowl by the doorway. They were begging to be stolen."

"They were not begging to be stolen," Xander insisted hotly. "They were begging for someone to ask _politely_ if _perhaps_ Willow would be _kind_ enough to-"

"They were begging to be stolen," Vamp-Xander interrupted. "Begging. With little whimpers and liberal use of the word 'please.' Besides," he added when Xander opened his mouth to argue some more, "I stole one for you too."

"Well, in that case, you're forgiven and fork it over." He held out an imperious hand, and his grinning double pulled a bright green lollipop out of his jeans pocket and dropped it into the outstretched palm.

A minute later Xander resmuned his hunt for the missing vampire, now with the white stick of a lollipop poking out of the corner of his mouth. He would have looked extremely stupid, but the loose-hipped prowl and the hot, hungry light in his eyes were too genuine and feral for him to be the object of ridicule.

He stopped again a hundred yards down, his head titling in such a way that it was obvious to Vamp-Xander that he was scenting the air for something. "They were here," he said. "They'd been angry... Not that unusual with Angel and Spike. Demon-scent from the woods over there, sharp shot of fear from Spike, confusion from Angel. Burnt ozone smell. Single drop of blood." There was a short, significant pause. "Spike's blood."

Vamp-Xander looked unconcerned at this, but a small growl was rumbling in Xander's throat. Anger crackled in his eyes, anger that was directed at the owner of a very familiar demon-scent.

The bushes at the side of the road rustled, and Xander heard Vamp-Xander shifting into a slightly more balanced position as the scent of wariness, mixed with a heavy dose of fear, drifted from his double to his nose. Someone wasn't as unconcerned as he was pretending to be.

"Anyanka," he said, feeling the heavy weight of inevitability descend upon him, and a small figure stepped onto the road. Her skin glowed, just a little bit, as if it had caught the faint light of the distant street lamp and absorbed it. Her features were twisted and demonic and oh-so-wrong to Xander's eyes as he stared at her for a long, silent moment.

"I heard it didn't take you long to get over me," she said finally. "Barely a week before you were sleeping with that vampire."

"What did you do to him?" he demanded, almost sub-vocally, the growl coming from so low in his chest. Anyanka just smiled at him, a malicious little smile that made his heart twist in pain.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"


	7. The Inward Side

**Chapter Seven: The Inward Side.** Yet another Shakespeare quote! This shall be the last, I think, since this is the last chapter save the epilogue, and that, being called "Epilogue," will not have need of an accompanying Shakespeare quote.

"O, what may man within him hide,

Though angel on the outward side!"

_Measure for Measure_, Act Three, Scene Two.

* * *

****

Spike wasn't happy.

Well, understatement, but still truth. He was sitting in the middle of a sodding cage with bars of iron, or somesuch, and he was stuck with not Angel, not Angelus, but some weird mishmash of both. And the bugger was deteriorating fast, far as Spike could tell- he was currently curled up in the corner, muttering to himself about blood and screams and all that rot. Spike touched the bruise on his cheek and winced- he'd be up and about soon enough, looking for a spot of torture and with Spike firmly in his sites, since there wasn't a sodding person in miles except for his own fine self.

He was worried, too, what with Xan out and about with his doubles, and Dru and Ethan still on the loose, and Anyanka come back to haunt them, or torture them, or something. The bint was mad, no doubt about it- she'd bloody well been the one who left, and was ranting and raving 'cause Xander had the sense to find someone new? Sod that. He hadn't been about to leave Xan crying and alone like Anyanka had hoped he'd be, and now she was after his own ass. Angel's, too, since it'd take less than a demonic sense to notice that Angel had been in Xander's bed, and recently too.

And on top of all this shite, he was bored. Wasn't like there was anything he could do in this cage, 'cept maybe sit here and count sheep, or sing "One Hundred Bottles of Beer on the Wall," or something. There was a lovely sharp piece of glass that he'd managed to snag from the ground, right outside the bars, but he was afraid that carving on himself would just wake up Angelus ahead of schedule, no matter how distracting the pain would be. And yeah, there was blood loss to consider, since it wasn't like he could see getting a snack in the near future, but he could just cut little shallow cuts, and...

And yeah, that was Angelus, all right. No one else had that particular edge to his snarl, and no one could mistake that sneer for Angel's hangdog expression.

Shite.

* * *

****

"Yeah, Anya," Xander said. "I'd like to know what you did with Spike and Angel. I'm in sort of a hurry now, if you hadn't noticed."

"No, I really hadn't," Anyanka said with a sneer, and Vamp-Xander couldn't help but laugh.

"She got you there," he pointed out. "Here we are, strolling along with our lollies as if we hadn't a care in the world. Girl could be forgiven for thinking that we weren't really in much of a rush."

"Fine, I grant you that," Xander said, then turned the full force of his coldly furious glare on the demon blocking their way on the road. "But you didn't answer my question and believe me, I'm not letting you outta here until you do."

"Oh, that's sweet, if a tad unrealistic," Anyanka sneered, but before she could blink out and prove her point, Xander lunged forward and grabbed her arm, and she found that she couldn't go anywhere.

"Figured out a nifty new trick in addition to all the other neat stuff I got when I got these powers," Xander said in a conversational tone, still holding her arm fast in the band of steel he called his grip. "I'm immune to magic. Isn't that neat? And while I'm holding you, so are you."

"I still have my strength," she gritted out, and flipped him neatly onto his back.

Which would have worked better if Vamp-Xander hadn't been waiting for that exact moment. He grabbed her from behind, wrapped his arms around her waist in a mockery of a bear hug, pinning her arms against her sides and immobilizing her for a split second. That was all that Xander needed, and with a decidedly inhuman snarl he grabbed her jaw in both hands, and twisted it sharply to the side, breaking her neck.

He twisted it back the next second, and she stared at him with wide, fearful eyes, her demon constitution keeping her alive when a mortal would have been dead already. She wasn't dead, wouldn't even be seriously injured with a few hours to heal herself, but Xander only needed a couple minutes to get the information he wanted, and the gentle yet implacable grip he now had on her wrist warned her that he would do the same to every bone in her body with half a chance, all without words. The look in his eyes gave a hot promise of hell, and she felt a chill go down her spine. This wasn't the Xander she had left behind, just a few short months ago. This was someone- possibly something- completely new.

"So," he said softly, and the chill grew into a full-blown shiver. "Talk."

* * *

****

Xander's face was the sweetest thing Spike had ever seen.

Of course, he couldn't see it very well, not the way his eyes were swollen almost shut, but he recognized Xander's scent right enough, and the oh-so-wrong death-decay smell that was mixed up in Xander's scent, that meant that his vampire double was still tagging along. Not the soldier-boy, though, so that was good enough, at least.

"Don't come too near the bars," he gritted out. "Angel's not gonna come back for a few minutes yet."

"So sweet, boy," Angelus purred behind him, back in the shadows, probably. Where Xander wouldn't have seen him. "Warning your lover like that. I'd hoped that you couldn't talk still, but I see that I didn't do a good enough job. Ah well. William's right, of course, Alexander. I've still got a little time before that cringing, whining, miserable little piece of shite comes back. Want to see what I can do now?"

"Less than you think," Xander said calmly.

"More than you know, _boy,_" Angelus snarled. "What could you possibly know about me other than what you've read in the Watcher's books?"

"More than you think," Xander echoed. "Like you're not as confident as you think you are- you stink of fear. Must be something to do with being in that cage, with me out here."

"You know who else is in the cage?" Angelus said. "William, here. He's here, where I can reach him, and you can't. Just think of all the things I can do to him in the next few minutes, till the sniveler comes back."

Xander stepped closer to the bars, the blur that was Vamp-Xander following just a step behind. "You can't do anything to him that won't heal, Angelus," he said quietly. "Being Angel's really taken it out of you, haven't you noticed? I mean, I used to get the creeps just thinking about you, and now... nothing. Huh. Guess you've lost your bite, baby."

Angelus took a snarling step closer, and then another. "You think I'm going to let myself be provoked by a carpenter turned Superhero? You think I care what you say to me? I know I've got the advantage here. I've got something you want, and you want him undamaged. You can't even get me out of here. Angel's coming back in a few minutes anyway, so why should I care?"

His voice changed, going lower and slowing down, drawling and syrupy and crawling down the spine like some evil serpent. "You should hear the things that Angel thinks of you, sometime. Blood things, and the way that you'd look with your intestines pulled out and wrapped around your body. The way you would scream without words if your tongue were cut out, if he fucked you and dug his hand into your stomach. The way you would want it, up until the moment you died."

"You're such a sweetheart," Xander said with a little grin. "You say the nicest things. Did I mention that I brought a gun?"

And just like that, he pulled it free of his waistband, behind his back where Angelus hadn't seen it, and shot him straight through the heart, then again, and a third time for good measure.

Angelus dropped like a stone, and seconds later Spike heard the clink of keys in the lock, and then his Xan's arms were around him, holding him tight like he was never gonna let him go. And it didn't matter that he hurt, that he couldn't feel anything below his waist and that terrified him more than he could say as sick memories washed over him, because Xan was there. Everything was fine, because Xan was there, and Xan was holding him.

"You look like shit, Spike," Xander said bluntly, while his double stood behind him silently. Spike smiled fuzzily up at him and shook his head a little, ignoring the short shot of pain at his movement.

"S'not so bad," he denied. "'m good."

"You're a bad liar," Xander said affectionately, and then he was fading out for a minute, listening to Xander say something, and his double say something back, sharp with denial, and Xander arguing for minute, but he couldn't make out the words. He had the sudden thought that he was losing consciousness, and made a frantic effort to stay awake.

"This'll make you strong again," Xander said, and Spike could hear Dru's words in his head, from years ago, saying, "-strong again. Like me," and he shook his head in denial, because he wasn't crippled, just a little tired was all. Nothing wrong with him, honest.

And then there was the hot, spicy smell of blood, real blood, Xander's blood, and the slightly cloying smell of older blood, dead blood, and somehow there were two wrists pressed against his mouth, and he could feel all that blood rushing into his body, feeding half-dead and starved nerves and bone and flesh. He shook his head frantically, shoving Xander and his double away with one convulsive movement, and crawled backwards till he was as far away as he could get, his back pressed against the bars and his eyes wide as he stared at the double image of the love of his unlife.

"You're healed now, Spike," Xander said softly, and took a step closer, holding out a gentle hand. "You're okay. We're all okay."

"'m not sodding okay," Spike growled. "What the hell did you think you were doin', feeding yourself to a starving vampire? Haven't you learned any-bloody-thing?"

"And haven't you figured out by now that I'm strong enough to shove you off if you'd started taking too much?" Xander said. "I can handle myself. We're okay, alright? I'm good, you're good, and even Angelus is gonna be held back for a while by the bullets I put in his chest, even if Angel doesn't reappear sometime soon. We're all good, and now we've got bigger problems to deal with right now than whether I was a moron or not. Can we just go?"

Spike jumped to his feet, then hauled Xander close and just... held him, for a minute. Would have done more than just hold him, except for the time constraints, and the fact that they had an audience.

Xander hugged him back fiercely, then pulled back just enough to place a soft kiss on the side of his neck. "We gotta go," he whispered against Spike's skin. "Drusilla and Ethan Rayne are still runnin' loose."

"I know," Spike whispered back, then sighed, and with extreme reluctance, turned Xander loose.

"Let's get the hell outta here," Vamp-Xander growled, apparently tired of all the sap, and stalked out of the cage.

Xander and Spike exchanged a glance, shrugged, and followed him out, completely forgetting about Angel, lying on the floor behind them.

* * *

****

Ethan Rayne and Drusilla were currently holed up in the crypt where Spike had used to live, and Spike figured that was just because it was the only place Dru remembered from when she'd come back to Sunnydale, that last time. Ethan had put up some sort of ward around the place, and it stung like cobwebs to their skin when they tried to walk through- well, it did to Spike's anyway, and even a little to Xander's double, but Xander himself just walked through like ward wasn't there at all.

"Immune to magic," Vamp-Xander muttered at Spike, and Spike nodded with quick understanding. That made a lot of sense, when he thought about all the fights they'd had over the last week or so- some of the creatures had been spellcasters, and not one of them had had any effect on Xander, but Spike just assumed that it was luck or the Powers lookin' out for him or something.

But finally they were through the wards, Spike managing it from sheer willpower alone, and instead of takin' a look through the window like Spike would have done, Xander just walked right up to the door, casual as anything, and opened it like he was goin' to tea at the witches' or something. A pretty strong burst of magic surged out, but it just blew past Xander and eddied around the nearby headstones, turning several of them into some sort of demon, tall buggers build like trucks, with horns and claws like daggers and lots of teeth. Spike and Vamp-Xander exchanged a glance, then charged into the fray with no more weaponry than their own two hands and fangs.

* * *

****

Xander charged into the crypt, a grin on his normally harmless-looking face that promised blood, and knocked Ethan Rayne unconscious with one blow. He turned to Drusilla, and smiled, and bowed. She bowed back.

The two of them circled each other for a long, timeless moment, and then Drusilla struck first. Xander ducked easily, landing a glancing blow of his own on the already-moving Drusilla, and the fight was on.

* * *

****

Outside, Spike and Vamp-Xander were hard-pressed to just hold their own. What the hell were those things? Nothing that Spike had ever encountered, that was for damn sure, and Vamp-Xander didn't seem to know what they were either, so they were both really damn relieved to find that beheading worked as well on these things as it did on most demons. This was a problem, since Spike had only managed to behead the one with the help of a low-hanging and sharp tree branch- Spike had pushed it back till the branch pierced the back of its neck, then managed to rip it the rest of the way off with one heavy yank. And one less was a good thing, neither of them was complaining, but there were five more, all charging at once, and Spike was starting to feel like he might not make it out alive.

* * *

****

Xander had never felt so damn alive, never in all his twenty-one-and-a-half years. He'd been in fights aplenty since Buffy had moved to Sunnydale, and literally dozens in the last week alone, not even counting the sparring he'd done with Spike and Angel. But this, fighting with Drusilla- this was taking it to a whole new level. For the first time since his change he felt like he might actually lose the fight, and instead of scaring him, it sent all the nerves tingling with near-painful intensity.

Fighting with Drusilla was an almost surreal experience- she was eerily silent, and the only noises between them were the thud of Xander's boots on the floor, and him panting for breath, and tiny cries of pain when either one of them landed a blow. There was no full-throttle pummeling, or the strain of muscles as he went toe-to-toe with something hugely bigger and stronger than he was. There were only the small sounds between them, and the feeling that they were dancing more than anything, and she flickering in and out and around him, and him increasing his speed to match hers, a speed that he didn't know he could attain. He got the feeling that anyone watching them would see little more than moving blurs, and the occasional drops of blood when her nails scored his skin, or when he sliced her with the tiny knife he'd taken from his boot. He still had his gun, but felt that it would be... wrong, somehow, to use it for this. This was just the two of them, and discovering who was the better dancer.

* * *

****

Spike began to maneuver the fight farther back, pretending that they were retreating, and Vamp-Xander knew what he was doing instinctively. Spike could feel the same closeness that he always felt with his Xan during battle, and he thought that not everything was lost when you were turned.

They managed to get far enough back that they were right by the crypt, and Spike looked around frantically for the weapons he kept around, just in case something like this happened. There! He could see them, but they were too far away, out of his reach, and there was no way he could get to them, not with the way that the five demons were crowding close, pinning them back against the wall, fighting for their unlives.

Vamp-Xander followed the direction of his panicked glance, and understood the situation in a second. "I'll distract them!" he yelled, and dove forward, right into the grasp of the foremost demon, who sunk its claws into his body and ripped.

* * *

****

Xander was getting tired. He could feel the drag of it in his muscles, the ache that went bone-deep. He was getting worn down, his movements slowing, and Drusilla didn't seem effected at all.

One slash from her sharp nails ripped his shirt open completely, and he quickly discovered that having it flapping around him hampered his movements. He skipped back and, quick as he could, stripped it from his body, leaving him bare-chested.

Drusilla flashed around behind him, and he spun around just in time to block her descending hand. The block caused the bones in his forearm to grate under the strain, and he grimaced. And then the grimace turned to a gasp as he felt a rending pain in his chest and stomach, like claws ripping into him.

Drusilla took advantage of his momentary weakness and pressed forward, shoving him with all the strength concealed in her dainty form. He staggered backwards and fell, landing in a painful sprawl on the stone floor, wrapping his arms around himself in a vain attempt to block some of the agony, and she moved to stand over him, one hand raised to slit his throat.

"Sweet child," she crooned. "Spike's sweet little boy. You've so alive, I can taste you under my tongue, sweet like cotton candy and hot like pepper. Don't you want to be with Spike? Don't you want to be with him forever?"

He stared at her in horror as she sank to her knees, pinning him effortlessly with one hand. She shifted, arranging her skirts in a pretty fan around her body, and then her features shifted with a sharp crunch to demonic, and with a sweet smile she leaned towards his neck.

* * *

****

Spike was able to get the hidden sword while Vamp-Xander distracted them by getting himself ripped up, and with a vicious snarl he threw himself at the demons. The force of his fury carried him through the bloody haze of the next few seconds, and when he came out of it, he was standing on the grass, with no demons left standing and with their heads- or any other extremities either. He just stood there, panting, for a second before a groan from near his feet distracted him, and he knelt to see Vamp-Xander lying there, curled around himself, bleeding out onto the ground.

"C'mon, mate," Spike said, not letting his worry show on his face or in his voice. "You're gonna get better, yeah?"

"Not gonna get better," Vamp-Xander said, his voice thick with pain. "Gonna disappear again. But that's okay- I'm gonna go home."

Spike couldn't really deny the truth of this, since the vampire's injuries were bad enough that he was gonna be dust in the wind any minute now. And since he was so close to death, he had to ask now.

"Why'd you do it? Charge in like that?"

"I'm just an echo," Vamp-Xander said. "Not the real thing. Xander's the real thing. And now that I'm here too, instead of just being a part of him, it's like he's the whole world. There's nothing but him. I know what he wants me to do before he can even think to ask me. He makes me feel things that no vampire should feel, just because he can feel them. So I have to do anything for him that I can."

"I get that," Spike whispered. "I really do."

"I know you do," Vamp-Xander said weakly, and tried to smile at him, though it came out as more of a grimace of pain. "It's why I did it."

Then his head lolled back, and he just sort of melted away into ash. Spike stared at the ground, and then saw the glow, the faint glow that came from the ash clinging to the blades of grass, and a brighter light coming from inside his crypt. There was room for only one thought in his head.

Xander.

* * *

****

Drusilla was close, far too close to his neck, and he knew that any minute now she was going to sink he fangs in, and he was gonna die. He was gonna die, and was going to come back evil.

He didn't want to die.

And then all his pain melted away, for just a second, followed by a searing pain in his chest, a pain that consumed the whole world. Drusilla and imminent were forgotten as his whole body arched, caught in the grip of an agony so strong that he couldn't even scream.

The mark on his chest was glowing, bright enough that Drusilla gave a little shriek and clapped her hands over her eyes. Xander's body slowly relaxed, and Spike, running into the room, saw him slump to the ground, boneless and seemingly unconscious.

Spike forgot everything in his panic and ran to Xander's side, terrified that he had died. But just as he got to Xander, his lover's eyes snapped open, and Xander jumped to his feet like he'd never been in a fight, never felt any pain at all.

Xander smiled, and Spike could see something behind that smile, something that had been missing since they'd woken up this morning, and he knew that it was Xander's vampire-self, safe inside him once again. Spike smiled to himself, and stepped back, leaving this all to Xander.

Who didn't really need to do anything, because Drusilla was cowering on the ground before him, covering her eyes with her hands. "An angel, he says, it's an angel, come to judge me for my sins. The light, so bright, divine, heavenly, it wants to burn me for what I have done. Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned, please don't leave, don't take me away, don't make me disappear. Please, please, forgive me, I'll be a good girl now. Please, Daddy, please."

"For God's sake, Spike," a voice said from behind them, "This is why she always comes back to me. You can't give her what she needs, and so she has to run to Daddy."

Spike and Xander both whirled around, and saw Angelus standing there, smirking.

* * *

****

No one moved for a few seconds, and then Xander started laughing. Really laughing, and Spike was afraid that his pet had finally cracked, because there was an edge to his laughter than made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and the nerves on his spine tighten painfully.

"You always come back, don't you, Angelus?" Xander said, still gasping with laughter. "Should have known it wasn't over. He was right. God, he was right. It doesn't stop. It never stops."

"Don't worry, Alexander," Angelus said with a little smile. "I'll make it stop."

"You sure about that?" Spike said, and when Angelus swung his head to look over at him, Spike added deliberately, Xander's dream that had started it all firmly in his mind, "_Sire._"

Angelus froze, and then shuddered. His body collapsed in one long slow slide to the ground, where he curled around himself, twitching. He was muttering under his breath, and Spike was left with no doubt in his mind that this was Angel, not Angelus.

"Angel," Xander said softly, all traces of hysteria gone. "Angel, it's okay. It's over with. It's all over with, and you can come back now."

"Can't- hurt- them- can't-" Angel stuttered, and curled tighter, shivering. Spike and Xander exchanged a glance, and both nodded, knowing what they had to do.

What they wanted to do.

* * *

****

Angel was lost, floating in the gray place where all he could hear was the screams of the damned and the innocent alike. He could smell the blood, and the fire, and he knew that this, this was Hell.

Then there was a warm touch on the back of his neck, and a cool one on his chest. Warm arms encircled him from behind, holding him tight, but it felt comforting, not confining. Like safety. A cool body covered his own, and he realized that at some point his clothes had been removed, or had he always been naked?

The cool one was kissing him, gently, sweetly, like he had all night. Then more firmly, with purpose, and he felt a tongue stroking the seam of his lips. He opened his mouth with a gasp, and the tongue slipped in, tangling with his, and he became aware of the cool one's erection pressed against his belly, and the warm one's pressed against his back, and slowly he was beginning to respond too, to harden and pant into the kiss.

Warm hands were stroking up his sides, and when the cool one slid down, scattering wet, sucking kisses over his chest, he arched, just a little, trying to encourage that wonderful mouth to move farther down, to the part of his body that wanted it the most.

The mouth was scraping sharp teeth over his belly, and the warm hands came up to tweak at his nipples. He whimpered, and one of the hands disappeared, leaving him bereft. The hand reintroduced itself, sliding over his ass, and he could feel something slick coating the fingers. Then the cool mouth engulfed his cock, just as one of those slick, warm fingers pressed against the opening of his body and thrust in sharply.

His head snapped back, and he just let himself sink into the sensation. Cool mouth moving over his cock, clever tongue curling around and sharp teeth just skimming, till he wanted to scream. A second finger joining the first, and both of them moving inside him, till they brushed a spot that felt so good he did scream.

A voice behind him said, "Now, god, so now," low and soft into his ear, and without warning the fingers slid out of him and a thick, hot cock took its place.

He arched, unable to keep his body still, and just lost it, orgasm slamming through him with the force of a freight train, caught between the cool suction and the heat throbbing inside him. And as he came he suddenly remembered, and he knew who he was with.

Spike and Xander. Spike sucking his cock for every last drop and rubbing against Angel's thigh desperately, and Xander thrusting into his ass, groaning into his ear as he followed Angel into orgasm. Spike came a second later, and the vibrations of his desperate moan around Angel's cock was almost enough to make him lose it again.

They collapsed together in the graveyard grass, and Angel relished the feel of the small prickle of the grass blades against his skin as he lay there. He was back. He wasn't evil, and he wasn't insane with grief. He was back.

"That was worth fighting evil for," Xander said thoughtfully, behind him. He felt Spike's laugh, muffled against his stomach, and smiled a little himself.

"Thank you," he said quietly. Spike snorted and lifted his head, half-glaring at him.

"What're you thankin' _us_ for? We got a good shag out of it. Even trade. Bugger the thanks, mate. Don't want 'em."

"As much as I hate to admit it," Xander said, "Spike's right."

"Oi! I'm always right!"

"Keep telling yourself that, chip 'n dip," Xander said, and slowly pulled his cock free of Angel's body. Angel hissed, and then Xander was standing up and stretching, moaning as the movement pulled sore muscles and bruises. He fastened his pants while Angel looked around for his clothes.

"There," Spike said, gesturing towards a spot on the ground, where everything had been piled at the base of a tree. The younger vampire was already getting dressed, and Angel hurried to catch up with him, wincing a little at the soreness in his ass.

Xander put a hand on his shoulder to stop him when he was about to put on his coat. "Mind if I borrow it?" he asked, looking a little sheepish, and gestured to his shirtless state. "Mine got a little shredded."

"Sure," Angel said, and pretended that he didn't notice the way that the black of the leather coat contrasted with the tan of Xander's bare skin. Spike pretended no such thing, and leered openly at him when Xander walked back to the crypt.

He emerged a minute later, with the unconscious form of Ethan Rayne draped over his shoulder. "Drusilla's gone," he reported. "Took off while we were, um, otherwise occupied. I'm not gonna worry about her- get this bastard to Ethan's, get home, sleep. Sound good?"

"Sounds great," Spike said, and the two of them started walking in the general direction of Giles' house. Angel followed, trying hard not to let himself think at all, but one question remained in his mind-

What came next?


	8. Epilogue

**Epilogue.** The end! At long last!

* * *

Spike had tried several times, on the way over, to get Xander to hand Ethan over to him. Xander refused, since he knew damn well that Spike was gonna "accidentally" drop him, and while he wasn't real fond of the bastard at the moment, neither did he want him permanently damaged.

They swung by Giles' place first. Spike picked the lock, and they tied up Ethan in Giles' favorite chair, Spike snickering all the while. They snuck out, Spike carefully relocking the door behind them, and headed for Revello Drive, where Willow was living with Tara and taking care of Dawn.

A sleepy-looking Willow answered the door, then did a double-take once she got a good look at them. Xander minus the shirt, Angel's coat slung around him and wearing it like it was made for him, and the rune harsh on his chest, still glowing a little. Spike looking pounded, and Angel with bullet holes through his shirt, all of them rumpled and grass-stained and generally looking like they'd fought and then fucked in the graveyard.

Willow, though, was a Scooby to the bone, and didn't bother commenting on their appearance. Just said, "Did you win?" and then added, before anyone could answer, "What happened to vamp-you, Xander?"

"We absolutely won," Xander assured her. "And he got dusted."

"He's gone?" Willow demanded, aghast, and Xander shook his head with a little smile.

"Nah, he's back in the Xander Mix," he said. "Right in the nick of time, too."

"Drusilla? Ethan?"

"Chaos bloke's all tied up at the Watcher's," Spike answered. "Dru ran off- we were a bit busy, didn't see where she went."

"Don't care as long as she's not here," Xander put in. "We had to run Anya off, too. Anyanka, rather."

"Anya was here?" Willow said. "Seriously? Was she... causing trouble?"

"Locked up Spike with Angel of the none-too-steady soul," Xander said. "She learned the error of her ways."

His smile didn't invite any further questions, so Willow let it go. She leaned against the doorframe, looking tired and older, somehow. "What are you going to do now?"

"Right now? Go home and sleep. After that..." He stopped, shook his head. "I don't know. Leave, probably. The Slayer's been called- she'll be here soon. Hellmouth doesn't really need me anymore."

Spike said nothing- he'd known Xan would do this soon, though he hadn't realized it would be now. Angel made a low noise behind him, possibly protest, possibly just surprise, but said nothing more. Willow accepted the blow with composure that she wouldn't have had a few short months ago, paling almost unnoticeably. "Where are you going to go?" she asked, trying in vain to hide the little quaver in her voice. "Or do you know?"

"LA, first," Xander said, and shot a little teasing glance at Angel that Willow didn't miss, but didn't comment on. Spike thought that there were more things that _weren't_ being said, than things that _were_. "Then... I dunno. Wherever we're needed, I guess? It's complicated. I might get sent somewhere by the Powers. We may just wander and help where we can. I like the sound of that, personally, but- don't have to decide right now. We've got time."

"You're not going right away, then?" Willow said eagerly, clearly grasping at straws. Xander shook his head, then touched her cheek gently, helping to heal some of the sting of _that_ blow.

"Soon as we can pack, baby," he told her. "Sunset tomorrow, the day after that at the latest." A single tear spilled down Willow's cheek, catching on and pooling around his thick, calloused index finger. "We'll come by and say goodbye before we take off," he continued. "We're not just gonna leave without any trace. You'll still hear from me, I swear."

"Will you come back?" she whispered. Xander let his hand drop from her cheek, then gripped both her upper arms with his big hands, and leaned forward till his forehead rested against hers.

"I will always be back," he whispered hoarsely. "Just to see you. That promise you can take to the grave."

"I know," she said, and then they were hugging, tightly, completely lost to their surroundings. Spike and Angel stood silently, uncomfortably, side by side, and tried not to feel like they were watching something they shouldn't.

When he pulled away, kissed her on the forehead, and walked away, Willow watched him go. She watched him leave, with Spike and Angel following like two fools who loved him, and the tears rolled like acid down her cheeks.

* * *

That morning had been awkward, getting home just before sunset and Angel suddenly turning shy, not wanting to get in bed with them, even after what they'd done. Especially after what they'd done, and he'd tried to go sleep on the couch, but Spike had smacked him on the back of the head, called him a wanker, and yanked off his clothes before he could protest. Xander's sleepy smile had clinched it, and so here they were, at four in the afternoon, with weak reflected glow shining on the floor from behind the blinds that covered the windows.

Angel was wide awake. He never needed much sleep- well, he didn't need much in the regular run of things, when he didn't have his formerly-dead Sire keeping him in magical dreamland. He'd gotten a couple hours, but mostly he'd just lain awake and thought, and tried not to think too loud because he knew that Spike would wake up and smack him. Then Xander would wake up, and Xander would give him the Xander look, the one that managed to scold him and laugh at the same time.

Easier to just think quietly, all things considered.

And he had plenty to think about, though he knew he would get laughed at if he said as much to the other two. He'd had sex with them. With both of them. Cool vampire wrapped around his body and his cock, and hot, hot human inside him. He'd had sex with them, and now he had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do about it.

Xander said that the two of them were going to LA with him. They weren't planning on staying forever, he'd picked up on that much, but they were planning on staying a while, so that meant something, didn't it? Something more than bringing an Angelus-crazy vampire they sort of liked back to something vaguely resembling sanity?

He was such a girl.

"Shut up and go back to sleep, ya ponce," Spike mumbled sleepily from somewhere near his stomach. Angel started, then relaxed back again and muttered sulkily, "I didn't say anything."

"Can hear you thinking," Spike complained, and see, he'd been right. Couldn't think too loud because Spike would hear him. Even if he didn't get smacked.

Even in his own head, that last sentence sounded wrong.

"Angel, _I_ can hear you thinking," Xander said on a yawn. "And I'm not awake."

"You're talking, aren't you?" Spike said.

"I can talk in my sleep," Xander said firmly. "I can talk anytime, under any circumstances. I will be able to talk when I'm dead."

"Don't doubt it a bit," Spike muttered, and Angel heard the smack of Xander's calloused palm smacking Spike's bare shoulder. "Oi! What was that for?"

"For being an asshole, Blondie," Xander retorted. "It's something you're good at."

"Well, yeah. Evil, remember?"

"Don't I know it. You wanna come over here and prove it?"

"Rather prove it right here," Spike said, and bit gently into the skin around Angel's stomach with blunt human teeth in a way that he knew would tickle. Angel jumped and cursed, and Xander laughed out loud, and Spike smirked at them both.

"See? Still evil."

"Bastard," Angel grumbled, just as Xander demanded, "Hey, don't I get some?"

"Good idea," Spike said, but turned back to Angel after a second's consideration. "I'm thinkin', though, that I've got better fish to fry. What about you?"

Xander turned his own considering gaze to Angel. "Hmmm. You may be an asshole, chip dip, but you got good ideas."

"Damn straight."

"Sometimes," Xander amended. "You have good ideas sometimes. It just so happens that this is one of them."

"Are you going to continue to talk over me like I don't exist?" Angel enquired.

"Why, you got a problem with it?" Spike demanded, and got smacked again for his trouble.

"Shut up, Spike. Nah, I think it's time we paid him some attention. Don't you think so?"

And the question seemed to have been aimed at Spike, but his hot-eyed gaze was focused on Angel, and Angel knew exactly what he was thinking, and his dick rose in response. Xander laughed a little, grinned like a hyena, and then bent down to eat him up.

* * *

They were all packed- finally- and ready to go, it seemed. Spike couldn't believe the amount of sheer _stuff_ that the two of them had managed to accumulate in the last couple months, and that wasn't even counting all the stuff Xan had had before he'd gotten involved with Spike. It was a good thing that all three of them had more than human strength and multiple cars, because they were going to need it to get all these boxes down the stairs and to LA.

"There's no way we're going to able to carry all this stuff with us if we do the traveling thing," Xander said as he stared at the pile of boxes. "Remind me again why you two talked me out of throwing most of this away?"

"Because you might need some of it, and you can store it in one of the empty rooms at the Hyperion," Angel said patiently. "We've got more room than we know what to do with. Won't kill you to pack the stuff away for a rainy day."

"Might kill my back," Xander grumbled. "And what about you, Spike? Why did you vote for the packing brigade?"

"Wanted to make sure Peaches didn't wiggle out of carrying duty," Spike said with a shrug. "Figured he wouldn't be able to if we packed enough stuff."

"Somehow," Xander said with a sigh, "I'm not surprised." He turned his unhappy gaze back to the pile of boxes, then sighed again. "Alright. Let's get started."

The knock on the door startled them all. Spike and Xander exchanged glances while Angel stared at the floor, and after a long second Xander sighed a third time and went to answer the door.

Dawns stood there, looking incredibly young, with Willow and Tara behind her. Xander just stood there for a minute, trying to get his brain off the "packing/arguing-with-Spike-and-Angel" track and onto the "visits from estranged friends" track.

"Little Bit!" Spike said cheerfully, breaking the spell that held Xander still. "And the witchy ones. Good to see ya. Come on in."

"Should know better than to say 'come in' in Sunnydale, Spike," Xander said, without turning around or taking his eyes off the three girls who filed through his front door. "You, especially, should know better."

"I'd know if they were vampires, Xan," Spike said slowly, and Xander didn't have to turn around, this time, to hear the ''duh" in his voice. "'Sides, even if they were, you saying we couldn't take them?"

Xander did turn around this time, to smirk at Spike. "To save my hide from either potentially offended party, I'm just gonna plead the fifth."

Willow sorta-smiled at him. "Spike's just trying to cause trouble again, isn't he?"

Dawn snorted before Spike had a chance to answer. "When isn't Spike trying to cause trouble?"

Spike looked offended. "Hey! I'll have you know that I can be quiet and peaceable and law-abiding sometimes."

"Yeah, like when?" Dawn demanded.

"Er..." He glanced around, obviously at a loss, and then brightened. "Xan can get me to behave if he pouts at me enough."

"Yes thank you Spike," Xander said dryly. "Any other parts of our personal relationship you'd like to share?"

Spike brightened again, but before he could answer a large hand descended from behind to cover his mouth, and Angel nodded at Xander. "He'll be quiet."

A muffled yell came from behind Angel's hand, and the older vampire looked down at Spike. "Well, relatively."

"Relatively is more than I usually get," Xander assured him, and turned back to the girls. "Sorry about the circus act. Something you three lovely ladies needed?"

"We, well, we actually came by so that we could say our goodbyes, officially, anyway," Willow half-stammered. "Giles would have come, but, well..."

"He's too busy drinking and cursing both Spike and Angel's name?" Xander offered, with just a tad bit of bitterness in his voice.

Well, just a tad was all he'd own up to.

Willow gave him a reproachful look. "He's busy watching over Ethan, and possibly torturing him with old Broadway tunes. I thought I recognized something from _Annie Get Your Gun,_ but, well, I didn't ask."

"Didn't want to know," Tara put in, speaking up for the first time. Willow shrugged an agreement, and Dawn faked a shudder.

"Well, either way, he's not here, and you are. What was your official goodbye plan, anyway?"

"We wanted to give you, well, this," Willow said, and she turned to get the small houseplant that Tara had been holding behind her back. Xander looked at it in confusion, and discovered after a moment's examination that it was, indeed, a small cactus.

"You got us a cactus," he said, then repeated, "You got us a cactus?"

"Houseplants are a traditional home-warming gift, and we didn't want to drive all the way up to LA to give it to you, so we figured that we'd give it to you before we leave. And, um, it's a cactus because it's practically impossible to kill a cactus."

Xander laughed. "Wills, you know us too well." He leaned forward to give her a kiss on the cheek, then turned to do the same to Dawn and Tara, both of whom blushed. Spike, behind him, made a protesting noise and then got free of Angel's grip, and bounded forward to, somehow, wrap all three woman in a tight hug. All three of them emitted some sort of high-pitched noise of surprise, but Dawn was the one to recover first and hug Spike back.

Spike turned them loose after a minute, and Willow, looking unusually solemn, stepped past Xander to stand in front of Angel. Angel looked uncomfortable and hunched his shoulders, clearly expecting the worst, and so the expression on his face when she wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug was nothing short of comical.

"Watch out for them," she whispered into his ear, and both Spike and Xander pretended that they didn't have super-strength hearing and therefore hadn't heard what she'd said, and that it hadn't given them a little warm glow of pleasure, anyway. She smiled at them, and something in her smile told them that she knew it anyway, so it was all okay.

* * *

It was another hour till last goodbyes had been said and the three of them managed to get all the boxes loaded into their respective cars. Angel looked properly horrified at having to drive Xander's beaten-up car, but he manfully slid into the driver's seat when Spike started to openly laugh at him. Xander took a moment to glare at Spike, and pointed out that they were junking his car as soon as they got to LA, and Angel would never have to drive it again because he'd have his own car. This assuaged Angel's battered pride a little- though privately he wondered what was the point of trying to hang onto his pride at all, if Spike and Xander were going to be along- and so after a sneering comment from Spike about seeing him in several hours because that's how long it was gonna take him to drive the fairly short distance to LA, he slammed the driver's side door shut and drove off.

Spike flicked him off, the good, old-fashioned, American way to make sure that he understood, and followed, with Xander laughing beside him.

They were on their way.

**End**


End file.
